


A Day in the Life

by someclarafication



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Gen, Guest Stars, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-04 08:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 20,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3061559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someclarafication/pseuds/someclarafication
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>#14: "If that wasn't a threat, I don't know what is," Digg remarks eventually. Felicity sighs. "And he said it so civilly, too." "Yeah, what a gentleman." Digg shoots her a look that clearly questions her judgment.</p><p>*Disclaimer: I don't own the Major Characters or any Guest Stars, all belong to their rightful owners.*<br/>*Prompts are always welcome*<br/>*Rating Change for Mild Language Use*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coffee

"One cup of coffee, two sugars and one cream, made piping hot for the young lady in red." Diggle grinned as he leaned down and placed it on Felicity's desk.

"Ohh, God, Digg, you're a life saver." The blonde let out a groan of delight as the drink slid down her throat. She smiled up at him before nodding over towards the office on her left. "You might want to be careful, Ms _. Rochev_  was here earlier, and lemme tell you, she did  _not_  leave with Pleased Face on."

Digg glanced through glass walls and grimaced when he caught sight of Oliver's glower. "Well in that case," he reached over and swiped the coffee from under her nose, ignoring her whimper of protest, "it's a good thing you two drink the same type of coffee." He winked in reply to her look of outrage, before stepping towards Oliver's office, throwing a careless, "I'll get you a new one later, Felicity, cool your jets," over his shoulder.

Oliver glanced up at the sound of Digg's voice and accepted the proffered coffee cup with as much of a smile of gratitude that he could muster. "Thank you. What's Felicity up to now?" He took a sip, glad to find it made exactly the way he liked it.

Digg shook his head quickly. "Don't worry about it. I owe her a favor. You just drink your coffee and continue worrying about whatever it was that you did to Isabel and how that might affect the company."

"You really know how to cheer a guy up, Digg," Oliver replied, a wry edge to his voice.

"I've been told it's one of my finest qualities," the older man quipped in return. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a debt to repay."

Oliver nodded absently, raising the cup back to his lips as he went back to staring out the windows into the streets below. As he moved it, a flash of pink caught his eye and he pulled back, glancing down at the outline of a fuchsia-colored lip on the rim of the cup. He furrowed his brow and turned back to Digg. "Why is there a pink lipstick stain on my coffee cup?"

Digg smirked in response. "Why don't you ask Felicity?"

 


	2. Lightning Strike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Felicity's reaction to Barry getting struck by lightning."
> 
> Episode Tag: Arrow 2x08
> 
> Enjoy :)

" _Wait, we are now being told to evacuate the facility. The storm may have caused a malfunction to the primary cooling system."_

Felicity's smile faded as she turned to the news on her computer streaming live from Central City. Oliver caught the movement from the corner of his eye and turned with her. Digg raised an eyebrow and as one, the three of them focused on the monitor.

" _Officials are now trying to shut down the particle accelerator but so far have been unable to regain control of the system."_

As the woman spoke, the camera went black, and Felicity practically ran over to the computer, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she tried to pull up any footage she could of Central City—laws against hacking into government satellites be damned. A heavily pixelated video pulled from a NOAA satellite following the storm in Central City popped up on her screen, and the team watched with mounting horror as a thick column of fire shot straight into the atmosphere, seconds later expelling a single ripple of matter across the city. Felicity's hand snapped to her mouth as Digg and Oliver exchanged worried glances. They watched as lightning bolts struck in several spots, and as fires cropped up all over the town. It felt like the Undertaking all over again.

* * *

"Felicity."

The tapping of keyboard keys was his only answer.

"Felicity."

A grunt joined the keyboard serenade.

" _Felicity_."

" _What_ , Oliver? What could you possibly need from me at this mo—" The sight of coffee and a bagel stopped the words in her throat, which she cleared away when she sent him a sheepish smile of gratitude.

"You need to eat, Felicity. Give those fingers of yours a rest."

"But, Oliv—"

"Felicity. Please." He walked away from her then, not giving her a chance to argue with him again.

* * *

"I've got something!"

Diggle and Oliver took a break from their sparring to join the blonde at her computers. "What'd you find?"

"There's been a Barry Allen admitted to Central City Public Hospital as of seven hours ago, and…oh my God." Her voice trails off as she reads, her eyes flitting left and right over the screen.

The men glance at each other before stepping closer, with Oliver leaning over her shoulder to read the hospital report. "Barry Allen, age 24, admitted 11 Dec 2013, at 20:43…struck, by, lightning." He blinked as he read, moving back to meet Digg's equally disbelieving gaze.

"I have to go."

"Felicity—"

"I have to, I have to go, oh my God, I have to go see him, I need to make sure he's okay, oh my—"

"Feli—"

"How long will it take me to get to the train station? Are there even any trains that run at…three o'clock in the morning?"

"Felicity!"

Diggle reached a hand instinctively to catch her as she spun to face Oliver, nearly tripping over her chair in the process. Oliver dropped his own hand on her shoulder, effectively stopping the whirlwind she'd thrown herself into. "Felicity. You need to breathe. Digg and I will get you to wherever you need to go." He lifted his eyes to Diggle's and nodded for the other man to get the truck. As he walked away, Oliver directed his attention back to Felicity. "Do you need anything? Clothes, tech…?"

She sighed, thinking for a moment. "I, I don't know. I guess, maybe a duffle bag for a night? And, and I guess," she blew out a breath and ran a hand over her ponytail, "I'll need to make a hotel reservation, the closer to the hospital the better, I suppose…"

Oliver nodded and squeezed her shoulder. "Let me make a call, I can get you the reservation." She raised an eyebrow, the look on her face clearly conveying her skepticism, and he rolled his eyes. "I still have some pull, Felicity. You can trust me on that."

"Oh, I always trust you," she blurted. "I trust you with my life. I just—"

He nodded, pressing her shoulder again as he reached around her, grabbing her coat and sliding it onto her back. "I know. Now c'mon. Digg and I will take you to your apartment to get your things and then drive you to the train station."

"Actually, I live in a townhouse," she corrected. "To be honest, it's more of a brownstone, even though it doesn't actually feel or look like one from the inside. I mean, it  _does_  feel and look like one because, well, it  _is_ , but then at the same time, it doesn't really. You know what I mean?" She glanced up at him quickly before focusing back on the steps, missing the small smile he shot her as they rushed out into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I lifted the dialogue of the news anchor, and I don't own the particle accelerator, thank God...
> 
> Clara


	3. Government Property

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Response to a Tumblr post about a woman getting in trouble for leaving hickeys on her marine husband's neck and being called for "destructing government property."
> 
> *Inspired by a True Story*
> 
> Episode Tag: Post-3x08
> 
> Guest Star: Lyla Michaels, Sara Michaels-Diggle
> 
> Enjoy :)

"Johnny, I have to go! Waller's going to kill me if I'm late today—we have an old Lieutenant General coming in and she's ordered good first impressions."

He ignored her, moving closer and wrapping his arms around her waist more tightly as he nuzzled her neck. Nosing her hair out of his way, he ministered small kisses to the column of her neck.

"Johnny, I,  _oh,_  I really have to…"

"Mm, what was that you were saying?"

"That this is no time for, well, this!" She swatted his hands away with a laugh, and watched as he screwed up his face in that silly mock scowl of his that she loved.

"Ugh, fine." He tilted his head, eyes softening as he swooped in for one more kiss.

Smiling as he walked away to check on their daughter, Lyla rushed through her morning routine and pulled out her old Service uniform. She walked out of their bedroom a few minutes later to find John in the kitchen with Sara, making breakfast. She grinned at the sight of him at the stove and walked over, planting a swift kiss on his cheek as she swiped a strip of bacon from the platter. She cooed at her baby girl for a few precious seconds before heading for the door, calling out a farewell to John. He walked over to close the door behind her, a smirk on his face.

"What?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

He shrugged innocently. "Nothing. You just might want to wear a scarf, is all. Getting kind of chilly out." He winked at her as she shook her head and left, snatching a pashmina from the hook and looping it around her neck.

* * *

**SEVERAL HOURS LATER…**

"Hey Digg, have you seen…" Oliver trailed off as he took in his friend's face. "Hey, everything okay?"

Digg ran a hand over his face, his mouth working as he tried not to burst out laughing. "I just got a call from Amanda Waller."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "What did she want?"

"She wanted to ask me to refrain from destructing government property."

Oliver shook his head once, wearing what Felicity would call Confused-Face. "You…?"

"Apparently, when Lyla got to work this morning, she took off her scarf."

"I'm still not understanding."

"Let's just say that we were…celebrating, our engagement last night and ah, I may or may not have left some…lasting evidence of our…"

"Celebration?"

Digg grinned in response. "Exactly."

Oliver chuckled, clapping Digg on the shoulder as he went to change and get ready for the night ahead.


	4. Unexpected Results

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part One of a Two-Shot
> 
> Episode Tag: Post-3x05
> 
> Enjoy :)

"Feli-"

_Buzz. Buzz._

She sighed, glancing towards the vibrating phone on the table by his elbow, motioning for him to go ahead and answer it. His jaw clenched, but he picked it up, accepting the call and turning on the built-in synthesizer, his eyes locked on Felicity's.

"Captain. What can we do for you?"

_"Excuse me?"_

Oliver blinked at the unexpected voice and drew the phone away from his ear to look at the screen. His eyes widened almost comically in horror and he quickly made some sort of frantic shoving movement towards Felicity, accidentally tapping the speaker phone button. She shook her head, confusion etched in her face as she stepped toward him. She froze in place when the person spoke up again.

_"Who the hell is this? Where's Felicity?"_

The two looked at each other, both with their mouths agape and near-panic in their eyes. They spun around to look as Digg and Roy trotted down the stairs, and wildly motioned for neither of them to say anything. Digg stepped up towards where they were huddled around the phone, going to take a glance at the caller ID. His eyebrows rose and the corner of his mouth ticked up in his usual smirk as he backed up, shaking his head and mouthing for the two of them get their own sorry selves out of this mess. He leaned back against one of the tables, grabbed his bag of takeout and calmly started chewing on some of his fries, his grin growing as the voice spoke up again.

_"Look, I may not be as tech-smart as my daughter, but I sure as hell can tell when someone's voice is being covered up by some, some, voice-warping, thing. Okay? Now, you tell me where Felicity is right now or I swear to God I'll...I'll call the police!"_

"From Las Vegas? What good does she think that would do?" Roy turned to whisper to Digg, though apparently his voice wasn't very good at, well, whispering, because Donna Smoak gasped from the other end of the line.

_"Oh my God! You know where I am? Do you have my daughter? Did you torture it out of her? Is she there? Felicity? Felicity! Feli-"_

The daughter in question shook herself from her daze and reached to take the phone from Oliver's hand. Swiping off the synthesizer and the speaker phone, she answered her mother. "Mom! Mom, I'm okay! It wasn't. No, Mom. No it was just. Mom. I."

Felicity pressed a hand to the top of her head as she waited out her mother's panic attack. "Mom! I'm fine! No, I can explain." She spun around and glared at Roy as he looked away to cover up his snort.

"Yes. No, I, it...it was um, Oliver. Yeah, he and Digg were messing around with my phone and accidentally screwed up the settings on the microphone." She held up a hand at her partners' indignant expressions, clearly asking what they would have suggested she say. "Look, Mom, I swear, it wasn't. Mom, no! I'm totally, completely, one hundred percent fine! I swear! You definitely don't need to come out to Starling again. Because, look, I told you. Mom, but. No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no!"

She swung her eyes to her friends, scowling at their poorly-hid amusement as she listened to her mother go on about wanting to see Felicity in person, to make sure for herself that her daughter really was all right. When she began threatening to go online and buy another plane ticket, Felicity capitulated. "Okay! Okay, I get it, you want to see me. Fine, I'll," she scrambled for a compromise or alternative, "I'll come to you! No, yeah, really. No, Ray won't mind. Wait, you, you want me to what?" She brought her gaze to her boys, finding all three of them facing her with varying levels of amusement and confusion written in their faces. "Um, Mom, I don't think. No, I mean, I'm sure they'd love to, but. Mom, no, it's not that, it's more like they have...work, that they can't miss. You know?"

Oliver nodded up at her, his brows scrunched together in question. Holding the phone away from her mouth and covering the receiver, she whispered, "my mom wants you to come with me. I think she's still got some residual worry after the whole super-virus, undead-ex-boyfriend debacle."

Wincing at something her mother said, Felicity rushed to respond. "No, Mom, I'm, there's no one. Okay, no, yes, but. Mom, no! Mom." She sighed in defeat. "Here he is."

Oliver shifted back, his eyes wide and focused on the phone Felicity held out to him. He shook his head madly even as she forced him to take the phone, mouthing to her what exactly was he supposed to say, closing his mouth and sucking at his teeth before answering the phone. "Mrs. Smoak, so lovely to talk to you again. Ah, yes, yes, I'm afraid Diggle and I got a little too caught up in our joking. No ma'am, it was just a little prank we thought would be-" He blinked and bobbed his head, opening and closing his mouth several times as he apparently attempted to defend himself.

He tilted his head as he responded to something she asked, a boyish touch of shame in his voice. "No ma'am it was not. No, it will not. Yes, I promise. I'll, talk to Digg." He pursed his lips. "We, would, be honored, to accompany Felicity. Of course. Okay. Yes, see you soon." He thrust the phone towards the blonde, ignoring her incredulous look and turned to face Diggle, speaking to him in a low voice. "You're going to have to tell Lyla that you'll be, out, for a few days."

"Why did you agree that we'd go with Felicity? She doesn't look too happy about the idea of us 'accompanying' her." He looked to make sure Oliver took in their partner's tense body language as she made the arrangements with her mother.

Oliver sighed and leaned on the palms of his hands against the tabletop, his eyes wide in amazement. "Because when I was on the phone with her and she was talking to me, I felt like I was twelve years old again and being admonished by Raisa or my mom for some stupid thing Tommy and I might have done." He glanced at the half of his team next to him and shrugged. "I couldn't say no."

Diggle and Roy shook their heads, identical grins growing on their faces at his admission. Digg clapped a hand against Oliver's shoulder before moving away to call Lyla and tell her. Roy smirked at Oliver and opened his mouth to make a retort when Felicity interrupted him.

"All right, well, that's um. Right. So, Roy, you're on your own for the next four or five days. Try not to break anything," she bit her lip and looked around the foundry, searching for things to remind him of, "and if you even so much as  _look_  at my computers funny I will come back here so fast you won't even be able to curse your stupidity." She pinned him with a hard look. "Clear?"

"Crystal clear, Blondie. Sir." Roy swiped his hand up in a mock-salute.

She rolled her eyes and sighed, reaching for her takeout and taking a seat on a nearby stool. Oliver glanced at Roy, silently asking for a minute before turning back to his blonde partner. "I'm sorry."

Felicity waved a hand in dismissal. "Don't worry about it. If there's one thing I'm 100% certain of when it comes to my mother, it's her ability to shame you into doing something you  _really_  would have rather avoided doing."

"Yeah, I, ah, realized that." Oliver huffed out a laugh before grabbing his own food and digging in. He paused, a tiny smile on his face as a thought occurred to him. "I guess I know now where you learned it from."

His grin grew as he ducked the fry sailing towards his head from across the room.


	5. Complications Simplified

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "A great story would be visiting Vegas."
> 
> Part Two of a Two-Shot; Follow-Up to "Unexpected Results"
> 
> Episode Tag: Post-3x05
> 
> Guest Star: Donna Smoak
> 
> Enjoy :)

"Ugh, Oliver, have I ever told you how much I  _hate_  the fact that you no longer have a private jet?"

"Only once or twice...about every five minutes since we got to the airport." He glanced over at her, watching as she struggled to get situated in her seat.

Digg glanced over at her too, eyebrow ticking up in amusement. "You could have sat in the window seat, you know. It's more comfortable."

"Which is exactly why I  _couldn't_. Because out of the three of us, I am the only one without arm muscles the size of medicine balls and therefore, the only one that can actually  _fit_ in the middle seat." She squirmed around again before dropping back against the seat with a sigh. "Oof, finally."

"You good?"

"Yes, John Diggle, I am  _good_." She drew the sleeves of her cardigan down to cover her knuckles and shivered a bit. "In fact, I am  _so_ good that I am going to fall right asleep and not bother either of you again for the rest of the flight."

Digg snorted and a small smile appeared on Oliver's face as he listened to his partners' banter. "All right Felicity, whatever you say."

"That's right. It is whatever I say. And don't you forget it, Digg."

* * *

"Felicity!"

The blonde paused, her eyes widening in panic. "Oh my God. Oh my God, why. Why did I ever think this was a good idea?" She waited half a second before sidestepping towards Oliver, using him as a shield. "Oh my God hide me."

"Felicity," he scolded, his voice softened by his not-at-all-veiled amusement. "She's your mom. She's allowed to be excited to see you."

"I  _know_ , Oliver, but that doesn't mean she has to embarrass me in front of the entire world!" She hissed as she tried desperately to hide behind her taller partner.

"Are you going to be acting like a five year old the entire time we're here?" Digg glanced down at her, his typical smirk in place.

She smacked him on the arm. "If you keep making fun of me? Definitely."

 _"Moi?_  Make fun of  _you?"_  Digg raised a hand to his chest in 'offense'. "Felicity, I would  _never_."

Even Oliver snorted at that.

"Felicity!" Donna's high-pitched squealing brought the trio out of their conversation-bubble, and Oliver and Digg watched in amusement as her mother jumped up and down before wrapping Felicity in a hug.

"Oof, Mom, you're squeezing about ten years off my life here," Felicity squeaked.

Donna giggled, pulling back and tapping her daughter on the nose. "Silly, I'm just happy to see you."

Felicity smiled gently. "Yeah, so am I." Noticing her mother's line of sight she turned to motion her friends forward. "Mom, you remember Oliver and John?"

"Of course, I do sweetie! Your friends that aren't your friends, right?" She sent a wink and a smile in Oliver's direction as he chuckled. "Ooh, and how is that  _adorable_  little baby girl of yours, Mr. Diggle?"

"She's good. Had a bit of a cough last week, but she's doing better. Time with her mom is calming her down." He smiled at her indulgently.

"She is just the sweetest thing  _ever_. Mm, I absolutely  _adored_  watching her when I visited," she gushed, her blonde bangs swaying gently as she threaded an arm through one of Digg's and the other through Oliver's. "So, tell me Oliver, what have  _you_  been up to? How's your club doing?"

Oliver grinned, his laughter evident in his voice as he replied, "Funnily enough, my sister is the one in charge. These days I just help her out with watching the floor and some minor management duties."

Donna giggled and propelled the men forward, throwing a carefree, "Coming, Felicity?" over her shoulder as they headed towards baggage claim.

* * *

Felicity sighed, suddenly exhausted, and dropped her head back against the seat as her mother drove through the desert towards their house, chattering with Digg about all sorts of things. She glanced over at Oliver, who seemed to be having difficulty  _not_  grinning like a fool as he listened to the conversation in the front seats.

"So that's where you get it from," he whispered.

She rolled her head over so that she was facing him. "Get what from?"

"Your rambling." He nodded his chin towards the driver's seat. "You get it from your mom."

Felicity considered this. "Huh. I guess I do, don't I?"

An eyebrow rose in surprise. "You never realized before?"

"Eh," she shrugged her shoulders, "we never really..." she lifted her eyes to his, "when I was growing up, she and I didn't necessarily see eye to eye on some, or most, things, so I suppose I just never noticed."

Oliver nodded, the corners of his mouth tilting up when he noticed her eyes fluttering shut. He nudged her side with his elbow, and smiled more fully when she jolted awake for all of three seconds with a drowsy "Hmm?" before promptly falling back asleep. With a shake of his head, he clicked open her seatbelt, pushing it away and drawing her closer. She woke up slightly and he shushed her back to sleep, arranging her head to fit more comfortably against his chest. She sighed, and burrowed herself into his side, curling her knees up so that they rested on his thighs, with her ankles supported by the seat. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gently combed his fingers through her ponytail, not noticing how the two in the front had grown quiet as he himself drifted asleep.

Donna glanced in the rearview mirror again, a soft smile on her face as she watched Oliver Queen take care of her daughter with a surprising amount of gentleness. "Are they always like this?" She shot a look at Mr. Diggle, who in turn twisted around to watch his friends.

"No. I wish, though," he chuckled.

"Oh? What keeps them from being so?"

Digg sighed. "They have a...complicated, relationship."

She raised an eyebrow. "Complicated? That doesn't sound like Felicity."

"Really?"

Donna shook her head. "Felicity, even though she's got so much going on in that genius brain of hers, and even though she generally expresses everything in that genius brain of hers through words, has always tended to keep her relationships-platonic or romantic or whatever-simple. Complicated is  _not_  her middle name."

Digg chuckled at the memory of Felicity revealing her middle name before considering her mother's words. While he could understand what the woman was saying, he wondered about the accuracy of it. These days, it almost felt to Digg as though Felicity couldn't even  _move_  without running into the word 'complicated.' "Well, there's always an exception to every rule, right?"

Donna shrugged her shoulders, unconvinced. "I suppose."

* * *

"All right, kiddos, we're here!"

Felicity groaned as her mother's sing-songy voice pulled her out of her nap. "Mo-om, five more minutes." Her head bounced up and down as her pillow vibrated in...laughter? Felicity blinked rapidly, trying to clear the sleep from her eyes and finally noticing that not only was she  _not_  in her childhood bed with the googly-eyed cupcake sheets, but there was a somehow-non-constricting heavy,  _something_ , on her shoulder, pinning her in place against her not-pillow. Skimming her eyes around, she took in the pleather upholstery of her mother's decades-old-Camry and the  _very_  obvious lack of an Oliver anywhere in the-oh God.

"Felicity baby, wake up! We're home..."

Oliver met Donna's gaze when she turned. "If you two want to go in, I'm okay with waiting out here for Felicity to wake up a little more fully."

"Are you sure?"

Oliver nodded. "It would be my pleasure."

"Well all right. Then just come on in when you're ready."

Donna and Digg exited the car, with Digg grabbing the three duffle bags from the trunk and following her into the little split-level house the Smoaks had been living in for years. Felicity watched as they walked in before moving. She stretched out like a cat, careful not to let a stray hand whack Oliver in the nose.

"Have a good sleep?"

She glanced up to see him wearing that smile she liked to think belonged solely to her. "Yeah, I did. Thank you."

"No problem. I ended up falling asleep myself on top of your hair."

"You? Really?"

He huffed a chuckle. "I know, what a shocker."

She shook her head with a grin. "Oh how the mighty have fallen."

"Hey, at least I don't snore," he smirked.

She gasped and backhanded him across a pec. "You take that back. I do  _not_  snore."

He pursed his lips, hiding his grin, and shrugged a shoulder. "Whatever makes you feel better, Felicity."

She stuck her tongue out at him and he chuckled, a smile that flashed teeth accompanying the sound. It warmed her heart, seeing him this lighthearted, and she watched him, smiling and giggling as they continued teasing each other. They stayed in the car until the sun started setting in earnest, both perfectly content to stay in the little bubble they'd created--free from any and all dangers to their happiness.


	6. A Dancer's Feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "I don't know if you've ever seen Dance Moms? Look up Maddie Ziegler and watch her dance she's amazing, I thought of a story where Oliver finds out Felicity can do all that dance stuff and Tommy and Thea get her really drunk so she shows everyone."
> 
> Episode Tag: Post-S2, Pre-S3
> 
> Guest Star: Tommy Merlyn
> 
> AU!Verse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I've never seen Dance Moms, but I looked up Maddie Ziegler and, wow. So I started writing. And this monster of a fic happened.
> 
> Today we're taking a trip into AU Land, since I really did want at least Tommy in this and I also wanted Happy!Oliver (i.e., The-First-Twenty-Minutes-of-3x01!Oliver), which means that not only does this take place post-2x23 and pre-3x01, but it also takes place in an AU In-Between Land with Tommy alive and in Starling and back in control of Verdant. As for Tommy's "backstory"/my explanation for his survival: I've got no medical training and what I know about surgery I get from having watched Grey's Anatomy re-runs on Lifetime almost every day over the summer with my brother when we were kids. So, yeah. Please willingly suspend your disbelief for this one.
> 
> Also, I'm kind of #sorrynotsorry for how this turned out? Like, I totally wanted it to be funny and then it kind of turns a bit sappy/fluffy at the end. So, I guess, bear with me?
> 
> But anyway, without further ado, I give you: A Dancer's Feet.
> 
> Enjoy :)

**PROLOGUE...**

Tommy leaned heavily against the door to the foundry, exhausted from the work he and Oliver and the rest of Team Arrow had been putting into restoring Verdant to its former glory. He pressed a hand to his chest, no longer caring much about the raised skin just above his heart. He'd been lucky that night at CNRI-lucky that Oliver had found him just in time to push him out of the way of the falling ceiling and support beams. If Oliver had gotten there even seven seconds later-a fact he knew only due to Felicity's genius brain and mega-complicated calculator-Tommy would have been impaled, and the results would have been fatal.

As it was, he'd made it out of CNRI with a chunk of steel embedded a few inches north of his heart. When he came out of surgery, the doctor told him that had it not been for the Vigilante's expedience, she wouldn't have been able to have operated, and she certainly wouldn't have been able to salvage as much of his nervous system as she did.

Basically, Tommy owed Oliver his life, and when he finally got out of the hospital, he made sure Ollie knew he could count on him to be part of the team-no matter what.

But just because he had been able to retain most of the mobility of his left shoulder and just because he'd been back up to full health for nearly a year now didn't mean that he didn't get inconveniently winded from time to time-like when he spent almost three and a half hours making trips back and forth between the loading dock and the bar and the upstairs stockroom. He stayed there, supporting the door with his shoulder as he waited for his breath to catch up with the rest of him.

"That doesn't look too comfortable."

His eyes flew open, though he relaxed when he saw who it was. He shook his head, knowing she'd understand his inability to speak at the moment.

"You want help getting downstairs?"

He nodded once before extending an arm to loop around her shoulders, watching through tired eyes as she punched in the code with a finger, her one hand gripping takeout bags and the other holding tight to his wrist. When the numbers glowed green, she shifted him to heave open the door, and he reached out with his right arm to hold it open for her. They walked through together, and when they reached the staircase, he let go of her, having caught most of his breath back.

As they made their way downstairs, she started chattering about something that happened at work-or, rather, her "soul-crushing exercise of misery that offers health and dental"-and he smiled, laughing lightly in response to customer's antics. They reached the bottom of the steps and he dropped himself face-first onto the couch Felicity had made Ollie buy when he started living down there at the beginning of the summer. Faintly he heard her chuckle and the scent of fresh french fries from Big Belly Burger made his stomach grumble.

"Ugh, I'm  _hungry_  but I don't want to get up," he groaned. A short bark of laughter was the reply he got. As he considered the pros and cons of going to get his food (pro: um,  _food_ ; con: leaving the couch), he felt his body sinking more and more heavily, until, finally, he wasn't thinking about anything at all.

* * *

_"Bum-bum bum, bum, bum. Bum, bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum-bum. Ba-da-da-da-da, bum-bum-bum..."_

She tapped her fingers in time as she continued humming the classic ballet variation, her feet instinctively tapping out the steps on the concrete floor. When the music reached her favorite movement, she smiled, and reached over to turn the dial up just a tad, conscious of the sleeping billionaire behind her. Glancing back at Tommy, she bit her bottom lip in deliberation. Shrugging, she muttered a lighthearted "eh, what the hell," and stood, careful to make sure her actions didn't wake him. She stretched, arching her back and her limbs, wincing at the tightness and tension in her muscles, knowing that she'd more than likely regret this later. Cracking her knuckles, she toed off her heels and wiggled her toes, scrunching her nose as always at the less-than-pleasant sight they made. She bent her toes inward, testing the amount of strength left. Satisfied, she turned to restart the song from the beginning.

"What are you doing?"

Felicity yelped, jumping in place and spinning around, a hand over her heart as she met Oliver's gaze. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tommy shoot up from the couch, but paid little attention to him. "What am  _I_ doing? What are  _you_  doing? God, Oliver, I thought we agreed you'd start making  _noise_  when you moved around!"

A single brow lifted, and Oliver grinned as he watched her eyes slam shut and her mouth silently count down from three. "Mm, we agreed, did we?"

She pinned him with a glare before moving to turn off her music, apparently opting to ignore the question. His grin widened and he cocked his head, taking in her appearance from her usual ponytail down to her bare feet...which he was now noticing were covered in little scars across the bridges and heels and with reddened, knobby toes-all of which looked incredibly painful. "What happened to your feet?"

"Hm?" She sat slightly on her desk, munching on some leftover fries while holding Tommy's order out for him to grab.

He nodded in the direction of her legs. "Your feet, are they okay? They look painful."

Felicity glanced down and shook her head. "I'm still not- _oh_." She shrugged in dismissal. "Those are nothing. I used to dance."

"Dance? You?"

She glared and threw a stubby french fry at Tommy. "Hey, peanut gallery, shut up. I can be coordinated when I want to be."

He snorted in response. "Yeah, I'll believe  _that_  when I see it."

Digging through her nearly empty cardboard cup, she lobbed another piece of fry at him. "Don't forget, Merlyn, I can wipe your bank accounts in less than thirty seconds-and  _Digg's_  seen me do it if you still don't believe me." She stuck her tongue out at him.

Tommy laughed when he saw the dart of pink. "Wow, Smoak, I didn't realize you reverted to a five year old when you got offended."

Felicity rolled her eyes and moved on to ignore him. "So. Oliver. What brings you down to the foundry on this lovely summer day?"

Oliver lifted an eyebrow at his friend, the expression on his face clearly questioning whether she seemed to be letting her hair color get to her. "You mean the foundry where I live and work?"

"Um, yes. That, yeah. Right. Sorry."

He shook his head with a smile. "Don't worry about it, Felicity. But I think you were about to tell us about your dancing?"

"Ooh, yes, I want to hear all about your exotic dancing past," Tommy chimed in, waggling his eyebrows, a broad grin on his face.

"Wow, um,  _so_  not what you're thinking-I did ballet-pointe. And, I mean, I was in a pageant, but that was all a really long time ago." Her shrug was nonchalant, but there was something a little off about the expression in her eyes that told Oliver there was maybe more to the story.

" _Wait_. You were in a pageant? Oh man, are you serious?" Tommy leaned forward, his blue eyes glinting with obvious glee. "As in, glittery makeup and mom-zillas and mini-Britney Spears-esque temper tantrums?"

"Yes, Tommy, I was in a pageant. Yes, I am dead serious. And yeah, there were some pretty memorable teary-eyed screaming moments." She shook her head and shuddered. "Ugh, but all it did was make me promise myself that I would  _never_  put any daughter of mine through that kind of torture.  _Ever_." _  
_

Oliver smiled at her. "So you danced for your...talent?"

"Yea, I'd been studying ballet-pointe since I was five-it was sort of my mother's way of making sure my dad didn't turn me into a total computer nerd. She wanted to make sure I got some artistry appreciation skills, too." She shrugged, as if it was no big deal that she'd just mentioned both her parents while telling a story about her past-something Oliver took careful note of.

"So why'd you stop?" Tommy tilted his head, apparently not realizing the magnitude of the moment.

Felicity bit her lip, her shoulders tensing slightly and her smile turning almost brittle around the edges. "After the pageant, I, couldn't, anymore." Her reply was halting, and she seemed determined not to look at them as she spoke.

"Why couldn't you?"

Oliver watched as she shook her head, a sad smile on her face. "It just...stopped, interesting me, I guess." She shrugged and bit her lip before turning slightly away.

"Mm, I still don't believe you."

Felicity let out a short bark of laughter and shook her head. "Well then, I guess you'll just have to not believe me."

"Or maybe if you showed us..." Tommy trailed off, arching his eyebrows suggestively.

"Yeah, no. That won't be happening. Ever."

"That's what you said about getting me coffee when you were my EA," Oliver pointed out. "And you broke that rule."

Tommy waved an arm out towards Oliver. "See, there you go! And besides, isn't seeing believing?"

"Look at it this way, Tommy Merlyn-the only way you will  _ever_  see me dance is if I'm drunk off my ass on tequila. Got it?"

Tommy opened his mouth to say something when a pinging noise sounded from one of the computers, effectively ending the conversation as Oliver and Felicity switched over to their Arrow business. He sighed when they went off, and slowly stood from the couch, taking their trash and tossing it on his way out of the foundry. As he walked up the stairs to the bar, lost in thought, a slow, devilishly mischievous smile made its way across his face.

* * *

**A FEW WEEKS LATER...**

"Ohh, that feels  _good_."

Oliver smiled as he watched her practically melt into the chair after toeing off her shoes. He glanced over as Tommy sauntered over, two of the Verdant-specific 'Emerald Archers' balanced in his fingers and a wide grin on his face. "And I bet  _these_  will feel even better," he said, passing one of the drinks to Felicity and holding out the other to Oliver.

"No, thank you." Oliver smiled at his best friend.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm good. But thank you, for, you know." He dipped his head towards Felicity.

"Nah, don't mention it. I figured you two probably need a little something to get you ready for tonight." Tommy lifted the extra drink to his lips, covering the smirk playing around the corners of his mouth.

Oliver shot him a look, but before he could say anything, Felicity addressed it. "You know, I don't even care about the fact that you sounded super sketchy just now-I am so  _tired_ -but you should know that if you have anything planned that you could regret tomorrow morning, I would  _highly_  suggest reconsidering. I don't want to have to retaliate." Oliver grinned when he saw that she'd delivered the whole speech with her eyes closed and head lolling on the back of the chair.

Tommy adopted an air of innocence. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"And that's exactly what you better still be saying five hours from now."

"I make no promises," he laughed, "but I do promise that I will keep your drinks coming as long as you need them, yeah?"

Felicity nodded vigorously, her eyes still closed, and took another sip of her margarita, blissfully unaware of the silent interrogation going on above her head.

* * *

**FIVE HOURS LATER...**

"Heyyyyy, Oliverrr. Hey Ololiver. Guess what?" Felicity grinned, her tongue running along her teeth as she practically draped herself across his shoulder.

He shook his head, trying and failing to hide his own grin. "What's that, Felicity?"

"I'm drunk!" She whisper-shouted, her fuchsia-painted lips brushing against his ear. He straightened imperceptibly, a suddenly tight feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Really, I hadn't noticed," he shot back dryly.

She nodded wildly, her glasses almost flying off in her excitement. His hand reached out to steady them on her nose, but she shook her head, pulling them off and tucking them into his front shirt pocket, patting them safe. She kept her hand there longer than strictly necessary, and began drawing little circles along his chest. "You'll keep my glasses safe, won't you Olliever?"

He chuckled, his arm rising to rest on the back of her chair. "With my life, Felicity."

"Really?" She brightened, her right hand tightening on his shoulder. She bit her lip. "Would you...keep my...tablet safe for me?"

"Mmhmm." He nodded.

"Annnd, what about my phone? Would you keep  _that_ safe?"

"I'd certainly try."

"My shoes, too?"

"That shouldn't be too difficult."

"Ooh, ooh, what about my hair? Hmm?"

"I'm not entirely sure how I'm supposed to keep just your hair safe."

"You know, how like in movies when the big hero is talking to the love interest chick and he's going all grr-protective on her-kinda like you do with me when I'm about to get myself in some sort of sitchiation-and he's all," she dipped her chin and dropped her voice, "'they won't touch a hair on your head' and then he protects her hair."

Oliver lifted an eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure that's just an expression, Felicity."

"But still," she pouted. "Do you promise to keep my hair safe?"

Oliver struggled to hide a smirk. "I promise that I won't let anyone touch a single hair on your head, Felicity."

"Good." She tilted her head all the way to the side and grinned at him. "Hey. Did you know that you're reeeeeallyyy blurry right now?" A giggle escaped her mouth.

There was no hiding his smile when he responded, "Well, that's probably because your glasses are in my pocket."

"That's right! Because you're keeping them safe for me, right?"

"Exactly."

She nodded, apparently content with his answer before dropping her chin to rest on his shoulder, her eyes focused entirely on his profile. She poked a finger at his neck, at his ear, and at his head.

"Felicity..."

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

She drew her head back, eyes wide and glazed over from the steady stream of drinks Tommy'd been sending her way since they first stopped at Verdant. "I have absolutely no idea."

Nodding his head, he signaled for Roy to come over.

"Hey, she okay?"

"Yeah, she's ah, she's fine. Just had a few too many Archers." He nodded towards the corner where Tommy was holding court with some of the club's more illustrious patrons. "Thank him for that for me, by the way." Oliver took no care to hide the sarcasm in his voice as he handed Roy the money to pay for Felicity's drinks.

"Will do. You need help with her?"

Oliver shook his head, standing and sweeping Felicity into his arms bridal-style in one smooth motion. "I got her, but if you could just grab her stuff-"

"ROY!" The two men jumped at Felicity's shout of delight. "Roy Roy Roy Roy Roy oh my gosshhhh ROooyyy hi!"

The younger man chuckled. "Hi Blondie. You want your shoes?"

"Yeah yeah yeah. Hey, you shouldn't call me Blondie."

"Yeah, I know, it's derogatory and sexist or something, right?"

"Noooope!" She popped the 'p' before lowering her voice to a stage whisper. "It's because I'm not really blonde. But you can't tell ANYone, okay? Promise?"

"All right, Felicity, I promise." Roy nodded at Oliver, dropping Felicity's purse and shoes in her lap before bringing the money back to the bar with a shake of his head.

Oliver shifted her in his arms. "All right, Felicity, let's get you out of here, yeah?"

"Okeydokes, Ollliver."

Oliver let out a breathy chuckle as he walked her towards the back door. He tried to ignore the way she threw her right arm around his shoulders and nuzzled her face into his neck, her fingers idly rubbing the back of his head as she seemingly drifted off to sleep; how  _right_  it felt to have her in his arms, 'space' a nonexistent word between them. Balancing her carefully, he typed in the security code on the basement door and stepped through, tightening his grip as he made his way down the stairs. Oliver reached the bottom and gently laid her on the couch before moving to grab his leather jacket and keys. He picked up his phone and tapped out a text to Diggle when she jumped up, wincing only slightly at the sudden movement.

"Tommy, the rat!"

His eyebrows shot up. "Tommy's a rat?"

"He gave me tequila!"

"If I remember right, he gave you  _a lot_  of tequila."

"But I told him that he could only see me dance if I gave him tequila!"

"You mean if  _he_  gave  _you_  tequila...right?"

She waved a hand in dismissal. "Schmetails. I have to dance!"

Oliver chuckled. "Tommy's not here, Felicity. You don't have to dance if you don't want to."

"I knoow he's not here, Oliverr, that's  _why_  I have to dance-so I can tell him that I already did and it's his fault for missing it."

"Wow, being drunk really brings out your diabolical side doesn't it?" Oliver bit the inside of his cheek, trying (and failing) to deliver that line as seriously as possible.

"Right though?" She sighed dramatically and shook her head. "I'm such a mean drunk."

"Felicity, I don't think there's a drink in the world that could make you a mean drunk."

"Digg said that too! One time."

Oliver lifted an eyebrow. "Digg said that? Really?"

"Mhm." She nodded vigorously. "He totally did." She paused. "Well, maybe. He definitely said something  _like_ that, though."

Oliver chuckled and turned back to his phone, only to stop in surprise as Felicity stood and weaved her way over to her computers. Tapping a few keys, the sounds of classical music started floating out from the speakers. He watched Felicity grab hold of the back of her rolling chair for balance as she went up on her tiptoes, though she pushed too hard against the chair and stumbled. Oliver's hand darted out to catch and steady her, and he tilted his head to meet her eyes. "Are you sure about this? I don't think you're as balanced right now as you think you are."

She waved him off. "I'll be fiiine, Oliver. And besides, I want to. And I want  _you_  to watch me."

"Well all right, then." He smiled softly and let her go, backing up to rest against the table surface. "Show me."

Felicity grinned and moved to the center of the room. She stretched out her limbs and tested again the strength of her toes, her movements and concentration surprisingly sober despite her intoxicated state. And then, in the blink of an eye (or at least it felt that way to Oliver) she started to dance. He watched in awe as she balanced on her toes, her arms and legs moving with a fluid grace that held almost-contradictory traces of rigidity. He watched as her face lit with something akin to peacefulness, a gentle smile brightening her features. He was so caught up in the happiness and light that she radiated that he never noticed Tommy's presence on the stairs, watching them silently, or that he still hadn't finished the text to Diggle. Oliver drank her in, feeling as though he could spend every night for the rest of his life in this same way, and never once grow tired of it.


	7. Absorption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Response to a gifset/other people's observations of said gifset on Tumblr that I couldn't resist writing to. *Some of the lines are paraphrased from those other people's observations.*
> 
> Episode Tag: Flarrow 1x08
> 
> Enjoy :)

He's captivated by her.

She's sitting there staring at him and he's staring back at her, watching the way the light plays across her face, the way her fingers curl around her mug, the way her glasses hide her beautiful blue eyes. Eyes that are currently boring into his because she wants something, because she wants to help Barry, and he knows she does and he knew she would because that's who she is.

If he could, he'd stay here in this spot forever, sharing a cup of coffee with her, and laughing together about random girls brewing him new pots of coffee.

There's a place in his heart where he keeps the quiet little dreams that flash in his head of what they could be. He has one now, of them sitting across from each other at a table, maybe even this one, having a conversation without words, his hands as far across the table as he can get them without being overly obvious, and their fingers playing and tangling together in a lazy sort of perfection.

But like always, he pushes it away, and brings his mind reluctantly back to the situation at hand, and reminds himself of all the reasons he'd set in place for them to  _not_  be together and all the reasons he'd thought of as to why they  _shouldn't_  help Barry. But even as he does so, he realizes that he's never been able to  _really_  deny Felicity anything, which means that they'll be staying in Central City longer than anticipated.

With a small sigh, he inches his shoulders that much closer to her. "Felicity, this is me noticing you staring."


	8. Fernie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "...Maybe your next one should be about the fern."
> 
> Episode Tag: 3x01 through 3x09 and beyond
> 
> *Slight spoilers for 3x10 from episode trailer*
> 
> Guest Stars: Laurel Lance, Thea Queen, and Martha the Senior Nursery Consultant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this one was a bit more difficult. I mean, I've read a fantastic fic post-3x09 on Tumblr about Felicity taking care of their fern (check it out, it's by saltwaterscoundrel called "Surviving in Low Light" and it's beautiful) and I've read one on ffnet (I can't remember the author, I'm sorry!) where the entire season is told from the fern's point of view which is frickin' awesome, and I really wasn't sure how to take this. So, I added a few nods here and there to the fics that I've read about the Olicity Fern, and I'm hoping this does them justice.
> 
> Anyway, the point is, I'm not as sure about this one, but I hope you'll like it anyway. Also, I put myself through angst-ridden, heart-wrenching hell re-watching a certain scene in 3x09 to get the details right. So, you know, there's that.
> 
> Now, that being said, enjoy :)

She bit her bottom lip, glancing between the image on her phone and the object in front of her.

Was she taking it too far?

She'd already gotten him a bed, so, honestly, this probably wasn't so bad.

But then again, a bed doesn't need care, while this...most definitely would.

"Actually, if you're getting a fern, they don't need a lot of attention to thrive."

She started at the lilting voice by her elbow, spinning around to find herself looking at an older woman whose nametag declared her to be 'Martha, Senior Nursery Consultant'. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Well, I couldn't help but overhear your little argument with yourself and figured I'd point out that honestly, if you're going to buy a plant for someone who isn't big on taking care of them and who doesn't particularly have a green thumb, a fern, which thrives in the light and doesn't require a lot of caretaking, is your best bet."

"Really?"

Martha nodded. "They need only indirect sunlight, keep 'em in temperatures about 65 to 75 degrees Fahrenheit during the day, about ten degrees cooler at night, keep the soil moist, and you're good to go."

Felicity screwed her mouth to the side, skepticism shading her voice. "That sounds kind of complicated."

The older woman shrugged, reaching out to brush a finger against the bright green fronds. "Taking care of any living thing always has some level of complication to it, it's practically in the definition of 'living'. But honestly, if you just keep this little guy plenty hydrated, you won't have any trouble. Out of all the plants here, he's the simplest to care for."

Felicity's lower lip went back under her teeth as she considered the fern, and Oliver's living space, and all the other factors. (They'd have to keep it away from both her computers and his arrow-sharpening tools, which left like, no surface to put it on except the medical bay table, which may or may not go down well. Especially if there was ever an emergency. And Oliver would have to remember to water it, probably every other day, but she supposed maybe she could help out every once in a while...)

"I'll take it."

* * *

She got to the foundry just after Oliver and Digg and Roy left to hunt down their newest bad guy, setting the fern on one of the table tops, careful not to drop it and break the ceramic pot. Her computer started pinging and her phone started ringing and in the height of everything happening, she forgot about the newest addition to their little team entirely until the boys came back.

Somehow, she found herself flirting with Oliver again (it was like the third or fourth time that week, and it was only Wednesday) before having to leave for "work," but not before promising to print him out a set of care-instructions for little Fernie (hey, she'd never claimed to be all that original when it came to naming things, her favorite stuffed elephant as a kid had been named Elphie for goodness' sake).

But as the week progressed and nearly five months' worth of bonding and flirting was wrecked in the span of a day, and she walked in to find one of her best friends lying dead on a table, it was safe to say that all thoughts of the low-maintenance plant fled her mind.

* * *

It took just over two months for her to remember that the fern even existed.

After he left, with his declarations and his knowledge-of-two-things, she was unashamed to say that she broke down more than just a little bit. She sobbed, to be honest, grieving for the way things had been, for the way they could have been, and for the obscurity of the future they all faced.

When she regained control of herself, she caught sight of Fernie perched on the corner of one of the tables, waving his green fronds up and down, up and down, as though her entire world hadn't just come crashing down to a head. And she realized that the little plant was actually  _thriving_ , that it hadn't died down here in the dank basement with all the darkness and ugliness the humans brought into it. Which meant that Oliver must have been taking care of it, nurturing the plant she'd given him back when she'd had hope instead of nurturing what they shared.

Which of course made her promptly burst into tears (again) at the thought.

This time when she stopped crying, she grabbed her purse and the plant, hitching them both higher and walking out the back entrance, resolutely  _not_  thinking about following his tracks towards whatever godforsaken place the League had called him.

After all, she knew him well enough to know that he was going, and that there was nothing she could do to stop him.

* * *

In the month and three weeks since Oliver had left, Fernie grew too big for his old pot. He grew big enough to be placed on the floor, and Felicity was able to get John to open up twin skylights that gave the plant the sunlight it needed to continue flourishing.

There'd been a moment of danger when Malcolm Merlyn had shown up that day just after the New Year, telling them "Oliver Queen is dead" and placing a bloody sword on their med-bay table, in an act of overly melodramatic irony; Roy had been enraged, and it had taken Digg holding him back and Felicity's arms around his shoulders to keep him from destroying nearly everything in sight, including, as he put it, "that goddamned weed."

After that visit, and after Laurel got herself into a few particularly violent encounters in an attempt to both find Sara's killer and take up the mantle of the Canary (and then broke down into another mini-spiral when she learned it was Thea who killed her but had no memory of the incident) the team went to work.

Digg and Roy kept up with keeping the city safe, Digg donning the hood and leaving most of the archery to Roy, but at the same time honing his own skills with the bow. Laurel started training with them and patrolling with them more and more, and while at first Felicity was more than a tad uncomfortable, they eventually found their groove, and after a night of a few too many drinks (on Felicity's part, because Laurel was doing her damnedest to stay sober through this ordeal, God bless her) she confessed that she could see just what it was about the Lance sisters that had Oliver all twisted up into knots. (That led to a seriously depressing conversation including ugly crying and tissues all over the floor and gallons of consumed mint chip that the next morning, both women swore to never think or speak of again.)

Felicity more than anyone dove into work with a terrifying efficiency and focus, barely stopping to eat, drink or sleep whatsoever. There were many times when any one of her teammates, either alone or in various combinations, came to drag her from her office to go out to lunch, and even the one time when Thea came with Roy, hovering by the door in uncharacteristic awkwardness and hesitancy. She quickly lost her shyness as soon as Felicity started babbling her way through explaining how she and Roy were friends, and afterwards showed up at Felicity's office more often than anyone else, sometimes with Laurel but mostly on her own, something deep inside inherently seeking out her brother's blonde friend.

And while this all was happening, little Fernie was growing bigger by the week, and almost getting out of hand. It even got to the point where Laurel showed up one night with a printout in one hand and a bag from the nursery full of gardening tools and dry fertilizer in the other. She handed the things to Felicity, motioned for the boys to follow her back to her car, and came back with several smaller ceramic pots in her arms, while Digg and Roy lugged between the two of them a couple of bags of potting soil. With Felicity reading aloud from the instructions on the printout, they cut up Fernie, dividing him into five chunks and potting the pieces. When they'd properly fertilized and watered the divided fern, Felicity turned to Laurel, asking for an explanation. She shrugged in response. "He was getting too big. And besides, this way it'll be easier to get him more equal sunlight."

And that was that. Fernie became Fernifulous, The Fantastic Fourn, Rosenplantz and Guildenfern, and Fernward. Digg, Laurel and Roy took theirs home with them, while Felicity left the two she'd named in the lair, small smiles lighting her face as she thought of their original owner and the inside jokes she'd made with their names.

* * *

It took nearly another month before Oliver returned to them, showing up without warning in the middle of the foundry, scaring the living daylights out of Felicity and Roy one night as Laurel was patrolling and Digg was having a much-needed night off with Lyla and baby Sara.

He smiled at the sight the pair of them made, Roy with his bow taut and aimed perfectly at Oliver and Felicity standing behind him, peeking out from behind his shoulder with one of Oliver's exploding arrowheads in her hand. When it registered to them  _who_  they were defending themselves from, there was a stark difference between the reactions Oliver received. Roy, shocked, dropped his bow, setting it down on the table and releasing the arrow before going and giving his brother a hug, stepping back with an enormous grin on his face.

He rushed to call Laurel back to the foundry through the comms, and pulled out his phone to dial Digg and give him the news. As he was swiping away at the touchscreen, his gaze found Felicity, still standing in the same spot, her hand tight around the arrowhead and her face pale. With a look of something clicking in his brain, he retreated into the shadows, hightailing it out of the foundry and heading for the back door, nearly tripping over Rosenplantz and Guildenfern and meeting Laurel in the alleyway and directing her away with a vehement shake of his head and a tug on her arm towards Digg's.

When Oliver was sure Roy had left, and it was just him and Felicity in the foundry, he cleared his throat. And then he cleared it again. He would have done it a third time if she hadn't spoken up.

"You're back."

"I am."

"You're alive."

"Yes."

"Merlyn told us you were dead."

"When?"

"How does  _that_  matter?"

Oliver looked at her, taking in the dark circles under her eyes and the thinness in her face. There were a few new wrinkles around her eyes that he knew weren't from laughing, and it hurt him in a special place in his heart to know that she had been hurting for him. "It...it doesn't. The point is, I'm alive. Living, breathing, in one piece." He held his arms out in a t-shape, as though holding himself out for inspection. "I'm  _here_ , Felicity. I'm here."

At the sound of her name coming from his lips, tears slipped from her eyes, spilling faster than she could wipe them away and mingling with her mascara, tracking the black makeup down her cheeks. Her hand rose to cover her mouth, muffling the hitching in her voice as she began crying in earnest. He dropped his bag then, taking two long strides towards her before wrapping her in his arms, pressing his face into her hair and breathing her in. Her hands gripped his shirt and his arms held her to him. He looked up, breathing her name in a prayer of relief and gratitude.

* * *

Things actually...got a little bit better after that. Oliver came back to them different, but not in a majorly fundamental way. He was still dark and broody and let himself get hopped up on adrenaline far too often, but it was also clear that he making an effort to be lighter these days as well, a lot like he was during the summer, when the City was at an all-time low for crime. It was different, and a bit weird at times, but no one was anywhere close to complaining about the new Oliver, least of all Felicity, who tended to be on the receiving end of his determined lightness more often than not.

Someone had told him about the daily lunches they had been commandeering from Felicity, and one day he showed up at her office with Thea, two little pots of baby ferns in his hands. She grinned, jumping up and hugging Thea before grabbing the plants and placing them on her windowsill, calling for Jerry to bring her some water.

"Did you buy new ones?"

"Nah, Laurel showed me how to 'propogate' them?" He shrugged, a faint tint of pink under his scruff. "I don't know, but apparently whatever you guys did made her go absolutely nuts with planting and stuff. She's got millions of little pots like those all over her apartment."

Felicity nodded, her grin widening. "Yeah, she sent me a picture the other day of her literal green thumb."

"Wait, how do you...?" Thea waved wildly between the two of them, her eyes darting back and forth before she apparently changed her mind. "You know what, never mind. Obviously you know absolutely _everybody_  Ollie's said as much as a 'hello' to since he got back from the island."

Oliver and Felicity shared small smiles before she broke eye contact, grabbing her purse, phone and keys, following the Queen siblings out the door and waving for Jerry to hold her calls for the next few hours, throwing an easy, "I've got some catching up to do," over her shoulder.


	9. Unfortunate Dinner Dates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode Tag: Post-3x09, Somewhere in the S3 Hiatus
> 
> Guest Star: Ray Palmer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know, man, I guess I was just tired of all the stories out there about Felicity dealing with Oliver's death and being depressed and stuff and having tearful reunions and I'm also probably releasing my frustrations that January 21 isn't already here so we can get a move on, but, well, here you go. I'm not bashing on those other fics-they're all good and everyone should write what they want to write. Like I said, I suppose I just wanted a change of pace.
> 
> Also, I'm procrastinating with writing my semester paper that's worth basically my whole grade and is due on Friday. So yeah, I'm screwed.
> 
> Buuut anyway, hope you enjoyed this. I wasn't planning on continuing it, really? I know the ending is kind of abrupt, so if there are calls for a follow-up, I will. After I write this bigass paper.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy :)

She was seriously starting to regret ever having accepted Ray's invitation to dinner.

In her defense, he'd been pestering her about going out in his somewhat-irritating-yet-slightly-charming way for nearly three weeks now, and today she'd been just too exhausted-both mentally and physically-to say no again. Plus, there was the fact that somehow, for some God-awful reason she couldn't even begin to contemplate (or she might finally well-and-truly  _burst_ ), she'd thought about Oliver today.

In the almost two and a half months that he'd been gone, Felicity had gotten pretty good at not thinking about him. At least, not during the day when she was at work, and certainly not during the night when she was at, well, her other work. It had taken her about two of the two-and-a-half months, but she'd finally gotten to a place where she wasn't drowning in her own depressing thoughts 24/7 and being generally miserable all the time, and she'd been in that place for the last two weeks or so.

She'd  _liked_  that place. It was a  _good_  place. Or, well, as good of a place as it could be, since she was starting to fear that no place could ever be well-and-truly  _good_  again, not without him.

And now she was rambling in her head. Wonderful.

The point was, she'd been doing well. And then the cosmos decided to shit on her brain and make her think of  _him_  and almost have a mental breakdown in the middle of a conference call with the Moscow subsidiary of QC-*ahem*,  _PT._

So if she had been a bit distracted today when Ray had not-so-subtly asked her out again and she'd mistakenly said yes instead of the even-more-not-so-subtle no that she usually gave him, well, could anyone  _really_  blame her? Honestly? Come on.

Either way, she had, and now she was stuck in a restaurant she didn't want to be in, eating food she didn't have the stomach for, sitting across from a man who had the wrong color hair and eyes and skin tone and voice and who couldn't say her name a certain way for it to have ten different meanings even if his life depended on it.

Oh the joys of being too polite to back out at the last minute.

It wasn't until the waiter came around to collect their dinner plates and Ray interrupted his monologue about whatever it was he was planning for the company to ask for the dessert menu that Felicity figured out what else had been bothering her all evening: someone was watching them.

She could feel eyes on her from somewhere, and now that she was cognizant of it, she realized with a start that she'd had the feeling all day, ever since...ever since her call with Russia and her sudden, random thought of Oliver. A little tiny sprout of a thought wiggled its way into the back of her head and a little piercing sensation hit her heart when she tamped down on both. Because, no. She knew exactly what each one meant and there was  _no_  way she was going to let herself go down those roads again, especially not in a public place and especially not when she'd only just gotten to her own good, private place. Shaking it off, she tuned back into Ray's ramblings.

"...which would be unfortunate for the ferrets, but hey, something's gotta give somewhere, right? Now, what we'd have to do so as to not end up pissing off the monkeys-"

"Ray." Felicity blinked at him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

He shot her a dry look before taking a sip of his wine. "If I'd wanted to enjoy a nice meal at a nice restaurant by myself, Felicity, I would've done so."

Cringing, Felicity let out a breath. "You're right, I haven't been-"

"Present?" He clicked his tongue, the slight disappointment in his brown eyes the only sign he wasn't as unruffled as he was acting. "Eh, no biggie. To be honest, you're not the worst dinner date I've ever had."

She nearly choked on her wine at that. What had she said to Oliver?  _Believe it or not, I have had worst first dates._  God, did that seem like a lifetime ago. Probably, she supposed, because it nearly was. And there she went with the Oliver-thinking again. She really needed to-

"Felicity."

"Yeah?" Her eyes shot to Ray's, her teeth biting into her bottom lip.

He shook his head and leaned his forearms onto the table. "You went into another world there. You want to talk about it?"

She opened her mouth to respond when the tingling on the back of her neck from the unknown eyes spread to her spine, causing her to straighten in her side of the booth just as someone slipped into the seat beside her. Felicity jumped, automatically moving away from the person, only faintly hearing Ray's surprised 'what the' as she gaped at the newcomer. Her jaw hung open and her eyes were blinking furiously, her brain not computing what she was seeing.

It was...it was...it was  _not possible_  is what it was.

"Definitely possible."

And now her mouth was betraying her. Great. Ray's raised voice broke her out of her daze and she turned to face him, her mind rushing to catch up with what was happening.

He wasn't looking at her though, instead addressing the man next to her who had appeared out of nowhere. "Oliver Queen. What are you doing here?"

Oliver's eyes never left her face as he replied to Ray. "I'm here to talk to Felicity."

"Well, as you can see, we're kind of in the middle of a meal here. Might I suggest you try calling her at a later date?"

"You mean  _you're_  in the middle of a meal.  _Felicity_  hasn't eaten a thing since the two of you sat down."

Affronted, Ray made to respond when Felicity cut him off. "This isn't possible. You can't-this isn't-I..."

Oliver tilted his head, blue eyes softening almost imperceptibly. "I promise you, Felicity, this is as real as it gets."

"Mr. Queen, I'm really-"

"Mr. Palmer," Oliver sighed, turning towards the other man and changing personas in a split second, armed with his 'Oliver Queen, (former) CEO' smile. "Normally I'd hate to break up a date. But unfortunately for you, I really don't feel much remorse tonight. So what do we say you call it a night, and I'll make sure Felicity gets home safely and at a decent hour so that she can be perfectly ready to go back to work at Palmer Technologies on Monday? Sound good? All right." He looked back at Felicity, watching as a range of emotions flit across her face, from shock to irritation to hurt to amusement to somewhere all in between.

Ray nearly protested at Queen's blatant dismissal of him when he caught the affection on the man's face directed towards Felicity. And suddenly, everything became clear. With a disappointed sigh, he stood, pulling a handful of bills and dropping them on the table. He walked away, stopping at the door to send one last wistful glance towards the pair, now speaking with earnest expressions on both their faces, before heading out into the night.


	10. A Better Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode Tag: Post-3x09, Somewhere in S3 hiatus
> 
> Follow-Up to "Unfortunate Dinner Dates"
> 
> Guest Stars: Laurel Lance, Thea Queen, Lyla Michaels, Sara Michaels-Diggle, Ray Palmer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnd, I wasn't going to, but here I am, giving you guys a follow-up to the previous chapter. Sorry it's coming late, but midterms were upon me. That being said, I wanted to have it updated before last night's episode, but I couldn't post it in time, so here you have a slightly AU (as of 3x10) version of Oliver's return.
> 
> Either way, hope you enjoy :)

Two months was a long time to be gone. To be gone from his sister, to be gone from the team, to be gone from Felicity. It was too long of a time.

But it had been necessary. He'd needed the time to get his strength back to where it had been. He'd needed the time to plan how he was going to restart his crusade-but with changes. He'd needed the time to worry his brain over the exact words he wanted to say when he saw  _her,_  the exact words he wanted to use when he asked her for forgiveness...and a second chance.

Because he'd realized that she was right. No matter what, she was in danger. And no matter what, she was better for him in so many more ways than just pushing him to be a hero. She calmed a part of his heart that was always restless, and the past few months when he'd had to watch her distance herself more and more because of a decision he'd forced on her had left an ache in his chest that no pool of immortality could heal.

So it was time. It was time to go back to his city and make it better, to heal it like the pit had healed him. It was time to go find his sister, and bring her into the fold, because she was in danger, and the only way he could protect her would be if she knew. It was time to find Digg, and show him he hadn't lost another brother. It was time to find Roy, and let him know that one more person hadn't abandoned him. It was time to find Felicity, and give her everything she deserved and more, because he loved her.

* * *

He went straight to the foundry when he got back, seeking Digg and Roy at the least and finding Laurel instead. A small argument and one teary-eyed hug later, she was pointing him in the direction of the bar, towards Thea and Roy. He bounded up the stairs, turning the corner to find Roy wiping down some tables and Thea writing on a clipboard. He cleared his throat, startling them both, and found himself bracing against the impact that was his sister hurtling herself at him. He hugged her fiercely to him before pulling away with a murmured, "good to see you too, Speedy."

She punched his shoulder, hard, and he winced, though his lips pulled up in a smile. He turned to Roy and shook his hand with a nod and a half-smile. He visited with them both for a bit before asking where he could find Digg and Felicity. Neither knew, which was unsurprising, so he set off for Digg's apartment first.

His brother opened the door with an exasperated expression, a pink bib slung over one shoulder, and something that looked and smelled suspiciously like pee on his shirt. Everything went to the back of his mind when he noticed who was standing on the threshold and he broke out into a genuine smile for the first time in two and a half months. Gripping Oliver's hand, Digg pulled him in for an enormous bear hug, his grin taking over his entire face as he ushered his brother into the apartment. Lyla stepped out into the living room, an incredulous smile on her face before she walked over to him, kissing his cheek and hugging him tight. The three of them ate breakfast together, Digg catching Oliver up with what had happened in his absence and Lyla trying desperately not to laugh and cry as she watched him feed Sara her bottle, holding her in the crook of a single arm.

When breakfast was over, and when he had extracted the same promise from Digg and Lyla that he had from Laurel, Thea, and Roy not to let Felicity know, Oliver left, stopping first at the loft for a change of clothes before heading over to Palmer Technologies.

* * *

Catching sight of her earlier that morning had been an almost other-worldly experience. It was like he thought he had only dreamt of her, and seeing her for the first time in over seventy days was the confirmation he needed that she was real. He had nearly gone to her then, but a voice in his head (hers, definitely) cautioned him that she probably wouldn't appreciate it if he came to her at work.

So he'd waited. He'd waited all day, keeping an eye on her and feeling only slightly nervous when she would leave the office to talk to someone else, but always relaxing when she'd come back and sit at her desk.

She looked good. She looked tired, but good, and the observation soothed a part of him that had been worrying about her.

Palmer changed everything.

He'd walked into her office, dressed in a suit and waving a single hand in the air as he spoke to her. She'd been obviously distracted, her focus on her computer and not on the man in front of her, which had made Oliver feel only slightly better. He'd watched as Palmer stepped closer to her desk, his body language indicating that he was flirting with her but trying to act nonchalant about it. She'd replied to whatever he said and Oliver had noticed how Palmer stiffened in surprise before a huge grin overtook his face. He'd started walking backwards toward the door, still talking and smiling, even as she waved him away impatiently.

Twenty-three minutes later, her head had shot up and she'd gaped at the door, frustration and surprise warring for dominance on her face.

Now, Oliver stood at the window of a small bookstore across the street from the restaurant into which she and Palmer had disappeared almost an hour earlier, rubbing his thumb and his forefinger together in the nervous habit he'd yet to kick. Taking a deep breath, he left the store, strode across the street and was sliding into the booth next to her in less than thirty seconds.

She jumped, sliding away from him towards the wall, her mouth opening and closing, whispers of "not possible" leaving her fuchsia lips.

"Definitely possible," he replied, his eyes drinking her in.

Palmer's voice broke him out of his daze, though Oliver made sure his gaze never left her face, even as she turned to look at the man across the table. "Oliver Queen. What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to talk to Felicity."  _What does it look like I'm here for?_

Palmer kept talking, and Oliver heard himself responding in kind, feeling a not-so-tiny flare of satisfaction at making the man splutter, when Felicity interrupted him. "This isn't possible. You can't-this isn't-I-"

Oliver made sure their gazes locked. "I promise you, Felicity, this is as real as it gets."

Palmer made to speak again but Oliver interrupted him this time, turning to face him with what Felicity called his 'Oliver Queen' smile. "Mr. Palmer, normally, I'd hate to break up a date. But unfortunately for you, I really don't feel much remorse tonight. So what do we say  _you_  call it a night, and  _I'll_  make sure Felicity gets home safely and at a decent hour so she can be perfectly ready to go back to work at Palmer Technologies on Monday? Sound good? All right."

Oliver turned back to Felicity, watching as her expression flew from shock to irritation to hurt and then to amusement before finally settling for somewhere in between all of them. He vaguely noticed as Palmer stood, dropping some bills on the table before leaving Oliver's line of sight. When the man was gone, Oliver turned completely in his seat to face her, resting his arm across the back of the booth, his thumb mere inches from the back of her neck. "Hi."

She shook her head, her eyes still somewhat-glazed over. "What are you doing here?"

"I needed to see you."

"But you were dead."

"Felicity-"

"No, Oliver, you don't get it." She turned to face him head-on, her hands moving in agitation and tears filling her eyes as her voice got heavier. "You were  _dead_. Malcolm Merlyn brought us the sword Ra's al Ghul used to  _kill you_. I tested the blood myself and it matched you, Oliver, almost a hundred percent."

"I  _was_  dead." He licked his lips, taking a deep breath. "And then, some friends...helped me out. And here I am."

Felicity shook her head, swallowing hard. "Oliver, you're not making any sense. You can't just be  _dead_ , and then suddenly be  _alive_. It doesn't  _work_  that way."

"Felicity, I-" he cut himself off. He inhaled deeply again. "I don't know the details myself. I just know that the last things I saw were the faces of the people I love-my father, my mother, my sister...and you. And then, there was nothing but black. Until, until I woke up in the cottage of..."

"Of your  _friends_." She looked at him, her eyes unbelieving.

"I know it's difficult to understand, to believe, I get that. But the point is, I'm here." He inched forward, grabbing her hand. "I'm here, and I need you, Felicity. You were the last thing I saw when I died and the first thing I saw when I woke. I love you. I love you and I, am,  _sorry_ , for the hell I've put us both through the past few months. I was so  _terrified_  when I saw you on that table...and then when I saw you with Sara and Lyla and Digg-I felt this...I don't know how to explain it. But I saw us. Is that crazy?" He sighed and moved to let go of her hand, but her fingers tightened around his. He stopped, and waited.

Felicity ducked her head, avoiding his eyes, focusing on the sight of her pale hand against his tan one. "It's not crazy. I...when I saw her, them...I felt this longing in my heart. And then..."

"And then I ruined everything."

"But it wasn't all your fault-I should have-"

"Done exactly what you did. It hurt. But I was the one who put you in the position where you had to walk away." Oliver searched her face. "I'm sorry."

Felicity shook her head once. "One apology isn't going to fix everything, Oliver."

"I know."

"Things are going to have change."

"I know."

"I mean  _really_  change, Oliver."

"I know."

Felicity's eyes scanned his face, as though she were searching for something. "Do you?"

"Yes." He held her gaze, and watched as finally, beautifully, wonderfully, she smiled.

"Okay then."


	11. Cupcakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode Tag: Somewhere in S2
> 
> AU Tumblr Prompt: "Hello I'm your boss and you're the new employee who just saw me shove an entire cupcake into my mouth."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed things up a bit, and it's as canon as "Coffee".
> 
> Enjoy :)

"Hey, do you by chance have those reports on the-" Oliver stopped in the middle of the hallway, blinking at Felicity and struggling to hold in a grin. He opened his mouth to say something when she started shaking her head vigorously. He lifted an eyebrow and waited.

She chewed furiously, nodding her head with each swallow, her cheeks bulging. As the seconds ticked past and she failed to finish swallowing, Oliver lost his battle to control his smile and it spread over his face as he watched her. "Having some trouble there?"

A few more head nods later, she swallowed one last time. "Sorry. I was, um, hungry." She cleared her throat. "And yes, the quarterly reports from Brian Calden are...right...here," she pulled a folder from the middle of a stack and handed it to him, a determined smile on her face.

He glanced at the folder and then at her, a smirk playing on his face as he reached for it. Tapping it against his palm, the smirk on his face grew and his eyes shone with amusement. "All right, thanks. I'll see you later, then."

"Right, see you later." She nodded once, internally sighing in relief. Apparently he was going to ignore what just happened just like he ignored her ramblings.

He turned around towards his office before pausing in front of the door. "Oh and Felicity," he waited until she looked up and met his eyes before continuing. "Feel free to take more time for lunch whenever you need to...maybe then you won't have to stuff a whole cupcake into your mouth in the middle of the afternoon, yeah?"

Her blush reached all the way down to her toes, she was sure of it.


	12. A Dancer's Feet Revisited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "I don't know if you've ever seen Dance Moms...I thought of a story where Oliver finds out Felicity can do all that dance stuff and Tommy and Thea get her really drunk so she shows everyone."
> 
> Episode Tag: Post-S2, Pre-S3
> 
> Guest Stars: Tommy Merlyn, Thea Queen
> 
> AU!Verse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so this was Take 1 of "A Dancer's Feet" and at the time I didn't like it, but looking back, I like it kind of better. That's why the beginning is pretty much the same as "A Dancer's Feet," and some of the ending is, too.
> 
> Obviously it's AU, but it still takes place in those five months between S2 and S3, and Tommy's alive (though no going into his back-story in this one, but if you're curious it's the same as in "A Dancer's Feet") and Thea's home still (she never left but I don't know if she knows about Oliver's Arrow-hood, yet) and the four of them are on pretty friendly terms.
> 
> Anyway, here's a re-vamp of "A Dancer's Feet," and just because you shouldn't have to read a retelling and only a retelling after so many weeks of not updating, I'm pairing this with a completely new one-shot.
> 
> That's all I've got. If you have questions, ask, and let me know what you think-if you hate it/love it, if you like this one/the other one better, etc.
> 
> Enjoy :)

"Ohh, that feels  _good_."

Oliver smiled as he watched her practically melt into the chair after toeing off her shoes. He glanced over as Tommy sauntered over, three martinis balanced skillfully in his fingers and a wide grin on his face. "And I bet  _these_  will feel even better," he said, passing one of the drinks to Felicity and holding out the other to Oliver.

"Thank you." Oliver nodded at his best friend.

"Nah, don't mention it. I figured you two probably need a little something to get you ready for tonight." Tommy lifted his own drink to his lips, covering the smirk playing around the corners of his mouth.

Oliver shot a look to him, but before he could say anything, a new voice joined the conversation. "Ooh, martinis and no one invited me? Rude."

Tommy rolled his eyes at Felicity, making her smile a little as he responded, "well, Speedy, if you were  _legal_ , maybe we would've considered it, but since you're not.." He shrugged his shoulders.

"I  _own_  a bar, Tommy-"

"Ah, you  _co_ - _manage_ a bar." He arched his brows.

Thea opened her mouth to retort when Felicity interrupted her. "Guys, seriously, I've got a massive headache and foot-ache and if you don't let me finish my blessed alcohol in peace I will show you just  _how_ bitchy with wi-fi I can really be."

The others chuckled, and Oliver smiled as he took her in-head hanging over the back of the seat, her white-and-black splattered dress fanning over her knees, and her feet splayed and stretched out on the floor. He tilted his head as he gazed at her feet more closely. The toes were red and knobby, and light pink scars-obviously years old-littered the bridges of her feet. "Felicity, what happened to your feet?"

Her eyes flew open and she shot up in her seat, tucking her toes under her chair immediately. "What, what do you mean?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "Your feet, they're all," he gestured helplessly, "I don't know. They look painful."

"Oh, that's just from the shoes." She shrugged, wincing internally when her voice squeaked. "It's nothing."

"Really."

Dammit. "Yeah, it's just, my shoes, I mean, Thea," she turned to the younger girl almost wildly, her wide eyes pleading with her to back her up, "Thea gets it, right? I mean, high heels are just  _horrible_ , right? I mean, they're not  _horrible_ , horrible, they're actually pretty beautiful, and some aren't too bad to wear, but physically on your feet, or I guess rather, on  _my_  feet, since you, you know, don't wear-"

"Felicity." Oliver glanced down at her feet before pinning her with his I'm-willing-to-wait-all-day-until-you-tell-me-what's-going-on look.

She blew out a breath and took a sip from her drink, meeting Tommy's more-than-slightly amused gaze. "They're from dancing."

"Dancing? What kind of dancing?" Tommy leaned forward, his blue eyes sparkling in wicked delight.

Felicity rolled her eyes, a grin playing about her face. "Not  _that_  kind of dancing. Just because I grew up in Vegas doesn't mean I went exotic."

"Hey, a guy can dream, can't he?"

Thea smacked Tommy on the arm. "Watch your mouth, Tommy. This is Felicity."

"It's fine, Thea. Trust me, I've heard  _much_  worse. But to answer your earlier question, I used to dance ballet-pointe."

"You're kidding."

Felicity rolled her eyes at Tommy's incredulity. "No, Tommy, I'm not kidding."

"But you, you don't..."

"If you dare finish that with 'have good balance' I  _will_  sink your credit score so low even Hades wouldn't be able to pull it out of the ground."

"Well excuse me for being confused, I just kind of always see you tripping over yourself."

"Just because I don't have kick-ass ninja skills doesn't mean I'm not skilled at  _other_  things that require good balance." They all looked at her, waiting, Tommy with a wide, wicked grin, Thea coughing to cover up her snort, and Oliver with his 'Felicity's-adorable-and-she-doesn't-even-realize-it' smile. Felicity narrowed her eyes at Oliver, before groaning and throwing her head back and slumping in her seat again. " _Why_  does my brain hate me?"

Tommy and Thea broke into laughter, with Oliver letting loose one of his breathy-chuckles. His smile stayed in place as he nudged her with his knee. "So you danced ballet? Were you ever, what's the name of the main girl?"

"Prima ballerina," Thea provided, wiping at a tear that had escaped.

"That's it." Oliver looked back over at Felicity. "Were you ever the prima ballerina?"

Felicity smiled softly, her eyes a little sad. "No, I didn't dance long enough to be one. I stopped when I was...sixteen?" Felicity looked up at the ceiling, calculating the years. "Yeah, sixteen was when I stopped." She blinked a few times before looking back down at the group, avoiding Oliver's eyes.

"Why'd you stop?" Thea smacked Tommy on the shoulder. "Ow! What was that for?" The younger girl just rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"It's fine, Thea, don't worry about, seriously." She turned to Tommy. "We just didn't have the money anymore. And besides, I had to start getting serious about getting into MIT and it was just, it was fine." Felicity shrugged with her last words, cutting off anything else she might have said with a sip from her drink.

Oliver watched her, sad that she'd had to give up something she'd so obviously loved. She was doing a good job of hiding it though, hiding the pain that must have resurfaced with her memories, if the laughter spilling from her lips now was any indication. She turned towards him, still laughing, and he felt his mouth pull up into a grin against his will. Her smile widened even more, if that was even possible, and she looked back at Tommy, shaking her head.

"Oh c'mon, Felicity, it would be fun! And you'd get to show off your  _skills_ , so where's the harm?"

"The  _harm_ , Tommy, is that I don't even know if I'd be able to do any of it anymore!" Her laugh spilled over into her words.

Tommy scoffed, "Oh please, I bet it's just like riding a bike."

Felicity rolled her eyes, shaking her head in protest as both he and Thea tried to cajole her into showing off her dancing. "No, guys, c'mon-"

"But  _Felicity_ , please? C'mon, we want to see you!" Thea's grin made up for the whine in her voice...or at least until she pulled Oliver into the argument. "Ollie wants to see you too, he's just too shy to say anything! Isn't that right, big brother?" Thea turned on him, shooting him big doe eyes to get him on her side.

Oliver stuttered, stuck between admitting that he did want to see Felicity dance and backing her up if she was uncomfortable. "I, Thea, that's not, I mean-"

"Hmm, usually it's Felicity that's speaking in sentence fragments." Thea narrowed her eyes in triumph, a very cat-ate-the-canary-like grin on her face as she declared victory. "Which settles it. Ollie totally wants to see Felicity dance, and so do Tommy and I, which means that it's three against one and now you  _have_  to dance for us, Felicity."

The blonde opened her mouth to object again, but saw the futility of it in Thea and Tommy's stubborn expressions. She glanced over at Oliver and caught what looked like wistfulness in his eyes, sealing her fate. She rolled her eyes and downed what was left of her martini before standing with a dramatic sigh. "Fine."

Thea and Tommy cheered and Oliver leaned back in his chair, watching her carefully as she stretched out her long legs and arms, loosening her joints and testing the strength of her tip toes. She smiled the whole time, and when she finished stretching, she stepped over to where they sat and reached over Oliver to pull her tablet out of her bag, her ponytail brushing lightly over his chest. She turned on the music app, not noticing the tension in his shoulders, and tapped at the Swan Lake album, choosing one of the more recognizable dances and setting it to play loud. She dropped the tablet in Oliver's lap and stepped back into the open space of the club, waiting a few seconds to find the rhythm and recall the steps.

When she did, she began to dance. And Oliver was transfixed by her in a way that he had never been before. She moved with a fluid grace that held almost-contradictory traces of rigidity as she danced, her arms and legs telling a story he fervently wished he understood better. Unconsciously he leaned forward in his seat, mesmerized by the serenity and joy and passion on her face, an inexplicable thirst and envy thrumming through him at the sight. She was beautiful, and could anyone blame him for not being able to take his eyes off her?

Felicity was oblivious to her audience. As soon as the music had begun, as soon as she moved into the first position, she let herself go. She forgot her audience, she forgot where she was, she forgot all her heartbreak, and allowed herself to escape into the beauty of the ballet, just as she had done so many times so many years ago. She let her muscle memory carry her arms and feet across the floor, trusting them not to fail her as she closed her eyes to the world and opened her heart to the music. And for a moment, all she felt was bliss. For a moment, Felicity once more lived up to her name. And when she opened her eyes at the end, she looked at Oliver, and knew that the moment wasn't yet over.


	13. Bumping Into Each Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slight AU Prompt from Tumblr: "Five times strangers Oliver and Felicity bump into each other somewhere, and one time they make a date to see each other on purpose."
> 
> Episode Tag: Pre-S1, 3x14, 1x03, Post-2x14 (Think in the vicinity of 2x16), Post-S3 (Completely Speculation), Hope for S4
> 
> Guest Stars: None

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this one. I hope you do too.
> 
> Enjoy :)

_August 2007_

"You look like someone who just got hit in the face with a shit-ton of bad news."

Ollie started, glancing down to see a petite brunette reaching past him for a bottle of Coke from the store's freezers. "What?"

She shrugged. "You were staring at that Dr. Pepper as if your life depended on it, and just realized you couldn't afford it, despite the fact that I'm pretty sure you're wearing like, a three-hundred dollar pair of jeans."

He shook his head, still a little dazed from the call he'd just ended. "I just, uh. Wow. Uh, sorry. Did you need...?" He motioned vaguely towards the freezer.

She lifted an eyebrow and gave her Coke a little shake in front of his face. "Nah, I'm good. Are you?"

He turned then, really seeing her face for the first time. She was pretty, in a sort of rebellious-girl-next-door kind of way with long brownish-black hair and darker clothes, and if it had been any other day, he might have tried something. But it wasn't any other day, and he'd just gotten a phone call that had completely shaken his world, and he needed...something. Needed to do...something. "I don't...I..."

She nodded, her voice and face taking on a sage-like tone and expression. "You're not okay, and you're probably in need of a drink, but at the same time that's probably not the best idea, so why don't I help you out here?" The girl reached past him again, pulling out the Dr. Pepper he'd been looking at and waving it in front of his eyes. "I'll pay, but you have to promise that whatever's happened, you'll face it like a real person and not run. Deal?"

He looked at her for a long moment, her words not fully registering. "Why are you doing this?"

She shrugged and glanced away for a second. "Because maybe I'm feeling charitable today."

"Or?"

The girl shrugged again before turning to head towards the checkout counter. "Or maybe I know what it's like to feel as though you're drowning and like all you really need is someone to be there to pull you out but when you look, you find that there's no one there."

He stopped behind her, studying her as she pulled out some bills to pay for their sodas. She didn't look like someone who had known pain, or who had made a mistake that had consequences so bad they could ruin the rest of her life. But she said she'd understood. And even though Ollie wasn't very inclined to extend his pity party to one more person, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness for her, too. "Thank you."

She nodded again, not saying anything as she handed him his Dr. Pepper. She looked as though she was about to leave when he stopped her with a hand on her elbow. He cleared his throat and this time looked her in the eye.  _Always make eye contact, Mister Oliver, or nothing means anything when you speak,_  Raisa's command echoed in his mind. " _Thank_  you."

The girl tilted her head, pursing her lips and crinkling her eyes before nodding once, moving her arm out of his grip to squeeze his bicep as she walked past him and left the store.

* * *

_February 2010_

Oliver kept his hood up and head down, making his way towards the warehouse in the Glades where Maseo said Chien Na Wei would be making the trade. He walked quickly, the visor of his hat shading his features from passers-by. Unfortunately, it also blocked part of his vision, which is the only reason he can account for nearly running over someone in his haste. The person stumbled as his momentum forced him to keep going slightly, his hands gripping the person's shoulders to steady them both. Glancing up, he saw it was the same girl from his mother's office, and he quickly dropped his hands, apologizing in a gruff voice and moving past her.

The whole thing happened in a matter of seconds, and he wasn't entirely sure if she saw any of his face or not, but he didn't look back, convincing himself that he definitely did  _not_  feel eyes on his back. He blended into the shadows along the street, and forced himself to forget the blonde with the glasses who thought he was "cute" (and definitely to  _not_  worry about what she was doing walking through the Glades at night by herself) as he continued on to help Maseo.

* * *

_November 2012_

"Mr. Queen?"

Oliver took in a breath, pursing his lips before turning to face the person behind him, confusion written on his face when he saw who it was. "Felicity."

"Hi." She smiled tentatively, giving a little wave before taking a step closer. "What are you doing here, Mr. Queen?"

"Felicity, please, call me Oliver." He nodded, pasting his Ollie Queen smile on his face.

"Right, of course, sorry, I forgot." She closed her eyes and shook her head once before smiling back at him. "So, I'm sorry, what are you doing here?"

Oliver shrugged his shoulders and shook his head with a smile. "I was just, ah, taking a stroll through the neighborhood."

Felicity pursed her lips and tilted her head, her eyes crinkling the same way they had back in her office a week and a half ago. "Mm, looking for a new coffeeshop?"

And just like he had back in her office a week and a half ago, Oliver found himself losing Ollie Queen as his mouth tugged upwards in a genuine smile, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips. "Something like that."

She smiled again and nodded, reaching past him to press the button on the light-pole, bouncing slightly in the chilly autumn weather as she waited for the DON'T WALK sign to change. He observed her, something about her poking at the back of his mind. He'd remembered her, of course, from that night back in 2010 when he'd seen her at his mother's office and then later when he'd bumped into her in the street. But there was something else, something about her dancing just out of his reach at the edges of his mind. It was slightly frustrating, but he knew that if he waited patiently enough, it would come to him.

"Thank you again, by the way. For your help last week," he clarified when she looked confused for a second.

Understanding dawned in her eyes and she nodded, a smile breaking out on her face again as she shot him a contemplative look. "Yeah, of course." She chuckled a bit. "Believe it or not, that was the highlight of my week."

He smiled a bit. "Really? Is that why you helped me? Because looking at a beat-up laptop was the most interesting thing that week?"

She shrugged a bit, glancing up at him before looking away, an indecipherable look in her eyes. "Perhaps."

"Or?"

She stiffened a bit, which he thought was odd, but her shoulders relaxed after a few seconds. "Or perhaps I was feeling charitable last week." She looked up at him, a small smile on her face and an almost hopeful look in her piercing blue eyes. "But don't expect it to happen all the time."

Oliver looked at her, confused slightly at the subtle change in her demeanor, but feeling that something about her tickling his memory more insistently. He smiled again anyway though, and had just finished saying "Well okay then," when the signal changed. She glanced away for a second before turning back to him, nodding once with that same small smile before crossing the street, striding away from him.

It was the nod in good-bye, coupled with her "feeling charitable" comment, that did it-that finally pulled what had been bugging him about her onto center stage. And Oliver stood there for a while, realizing that the gut instinct he'd had about trusting her wasn't just from that initial meeting that day in her office, or even that glimpse he'd had of her that night in his mother's office. It had come from a moment in a drug store in Massachusetts, when a girl with brown hair had bought him a soda, and asked him to promise her he wouldn't run from his problems.

* * *

_March 2014_

Felicity winced as she reached for the ibuprofen on the shelf. She grabbed a bottle, reading the label and trying to calculate just how much she could take without overdosing. If that was even possible.  _Was_  it possible to overdose on ibuprofen?

"Yes."

Felicity started, turning to see Oliver behind her, hands in his pockets, worry in his eyes even as he tried to smile at her normally. Or, well, normal for him. "What?"

"You were, talking, thinking out loud." He shrugged. "You were wondering if it's possible to overdose on ibuprofen. It is. But, it's just not usually fatal."

"Oh." She blinked at him a couple of times.

He shrugged again. "Of course, if you take a lot in short amounts of time it could do some serious damage, but-"

"Oliver."

He looked up at her, searching her face for something. "What?"

"What are you doing here?"

He shrugged again. God, how many times was he going to do that? "I walked into the store, saw you, and came over."

"What were you doing walking into the drugstore two streets over from my apartment?"

He winced this time, looking away and pursing his lips with a shake of his head, slightly hesitating before responding, "I didn't realize you lived nearby."

Felicity narrowed her eyes at him, feeling the lie and hearing the lie and  _seeing_  the lie, but not understanding where it was coming from. She studied him, and they ended up having a small staring contest until the throbbing in her shoulder became too much to bear and she looked away, wincing at the pain. She turned to grab another bottle of ibuprofen, and caught sight of a smug smirk on Oliver's face that lasted less than a second. Felicity scoffed a little in her mind at the thought of Oliver regressing to age five and being competitive over an unofficial staring contest. When she turned back to face him, he'd lost the lightness and amusement and had full-on Worried Face as he took in the two bottles she held.

"Are you...does it hurt a lot? Your shoulder?" He met her eyes.

Felicity shrugged instinctively, and then immediately wanted to kick herself when the pain flared up in her shoulder. She couldn't keep in a grimace and small gasp, and immediately wanted to kick herself for _that_ , too, when she caught a glimpse of guilt flash across Oliver's face. "It comes and goes."  _Lie_ _._

He sighed, his shoulders sinking a bit as he shook his head in what almost looked like defeat. Silently, he eased the two canisters of pills from her hands, putting one back on the shelf and motioning with his head for her to follow him before walking away. As he headed towards the counter, Felicity could have sworn she heard him mutter something that sounded a lot like "never supposed to happen to you." But she couldn't be sure.

* * *

_May 2015_

Felicity stumbled over a piece of metal that had fallen from the balcony and sighed.  _Here we go again._ Shaking her head at the destruction surrounding her, she still felt a little grateful that at least this year the damage had been mostly limited to fifty-yard radius around Verdant, meaning that reconstruction would at least be somewhat easier this time around. She stepped around the broken furniture, glass crunching under her feet as she made her way towards the basement. Her eyes were on her phone as she walked, unable to draw herself away from checking the news feeds from Coast City for any mentions of a man in a robotic suit saving the day. Even though it hurt to do it, and it certainly hurt when he left, Felicity knew that she'd been right in telling Ray to go. After all, Starling City really did have plenty of vigilantes already, and there really were other cities in the country that could use their own hero.

Engrossed in her phone as she was, Felicity didn't see the rather large steel beam that was jutting out from where the bar had been mostly smashed in and had collapsed in the battle. She also didn't notice Oliver leaving the foundry, a somewhat large, rather heavy case of tools in his hand as he, lost in his thoughts and therefore only slightly less unaware of his surroundings than Felicity, headed towards the dance floor, hoping to start working on cleaning up Verdant. The two collided into each other, Felicity having jumped a little to the side with a cry of pain when she scraped her leg against the rebar, and Oliver having instinctively reacted by trying to reach for her. They ended up with Felicity in a weird half-crouch thing with one arm braced against his chest and the other grabbing onto her knee above the scrape and one of Oliver's arms around her waist with the other keeping a death grip on the toolbox. To anyone walking at that moment, it might have looked like a very awkward and ill-timed tango dip.

Suffice it to say, it was certainly the weirdest position she and Oliver had ever been in, and definitely not in the good way.

"What?" Oliver looked down at her, his voice sounding a little choked.

She winced, blushing as they straightened and separated. "I totally said that out loud, didn't I?"

He nodded, opening his mouth to reply when he noticed her hand still on her knee. His brow furrowed and he moved to take a look at it before pausing. He glanced up at her. "Do you mind?"

She shook her head, motioning with her hand for him to continue. "Go ahead, knock yourself out. I mean, not literally, obviously that would be kind of bad."

Oliver shot her a small smile before brushing his fingertips over the skin near the cut. "We need to clean this, that beam might be rusty."

Felicity felt her breath hiss out between her teeth, though she wasn't particularly sure if it was due to the pain in her leg or the heat from the small touch of Oliver's fingers on her knee. When he stood and caught her eye she nodded in agreement, and passed him to go downstairs.

They reached the foundry and Felicity went straight for the medicine cabinets, one of the first things they had fixed up when they started reconstructing the basement. She pulled out the first aid kit and moved to sit in her chair, but bumped into a wall of Oliver before she could really take a step. He caught her with a hand on her shoulder this time, though he only left it there for a second before sliding it down to her hip. She squeaked and jumped a bit at the feel of his hand on her waist before he lifted her to sit on the table and she forgot everything but the feel of his chest under her hands and the warmth of his body surrounding her.

After a few seconds of bliss, she shook her head, forcing her attention away from his mouth and back to the words coming out of it. "What?"

He smiled a bit, though it held an edge of sadness-something that she was noticing was more and more common despite their recent victory. "I asked what kind of band-aid you wanted."

"What do you mean?"

With a smirk that was a smidge happier, he leaned over to the cabinet and pulled open a drawer, rummaging around in it with his right hand, his left sliding a bit to rest lightly near her stomach. Idly she wondered if he could feel the butterflies fluttering around in her belly. After a few seconds, he pulled his hand out of the drawer, holding onto two colorful boxes of band-aids. He held them up in front of her face, a box in each hand, and she pushed through the strange disappointment at the loss of his warmth in order to hear what he was saying.

"You have two options. The first, you have your standard superheroes-Iron Man, the Hulk, Thor, et cetera," he shook the box in his left hand, "or, you have a variety of Disney princesses, whose names I _don't_  know, no matter what Lyla and Thea claim." He punctuated that last point by wagging the princess box with his words.

Feeling playful, Felicity grinned. "Oh  _really_? You don't know  _any_  of them?" She shook her head and leaned a little closer. "You mean to tell me you  _never_  watched Disney movies as a kid, and you  _never_  had a crush on, say, Ariel or Jasmine or Pocahontas? C'mon, I know those are the ones all the boys like."

He arched a brow and shook his head. "To be honest, I always liked  _Beauty and the Beast_  the best."

In her mind, Felicity faltered. Because of course he would like the story where the pretty, smart girl restores the monster back to a man with her love. Her smile, however, held steady in its teasing glint. "Mm, I should've known, after all, apparently you always went for brunettes."

His smile grew as he shook his head again. "You're incorrigible. Are those the ones you want, then? The Princesses?"

"Nah, give me a superhero. Do they have Hawkeye?"

"Which one's Hawkeye?" Oliver missed her eye roll as he went through the bandages, trying to distinguish one character from another through the wrapping.

"He's the archer."

The band-aids in his hand slipped to the floor, and he immediately dropped to a crouch to pick them up, hoping she couldn't tell how hard his heart was thumping. He cleared his throat and stood, feeling a little flustered. "Oh, right. I forgot about him." Oliver set the bandages aside and grabbed the bottle of hydrogen peroxide, wetting a cotton swab with it and lifting her leg to clean out the cut.

Felicity inhaled sharply, her earlier smugness from having caught him off-guard with her archer comment vanishing at the feel of his hands on her leg, running up and down her calf, and inadvertently tickling at the back of her knee. His face was lowered so he could see better where he cleaning, which meant that with every breath he took, she had goosebumps all over her arms and legs.

Oliver cleaned out the cut and bandaged it, relieved to find that it wasn't as deep as he'd originally feared. He wiped a wet paper towel down the length of her leg, rushing through it a little so he wouldn't have time to stop and think about how good it felt to... _No, definitely_ not _going down that path._  Oliver shook his head resolutely and stood, taking a step back, both mentally and physically.  _She's with Ray now, she's with Ray now, she's with Ray now._ The mantra he'd been repeating to himself ever since he got back from Nanda Parbat and watched the two of them at Digg and Lyla's wedding was the only way he found it at all possible to keep his distance. Of course, it didn't really help with the whole broken-heart-healing thing Thea kept pushing, but then again, Oliver didn't really  _want_  his broken heart to be healed. He loved Felicity, and he wanted so badly to be the one she was with, but he knew he screwed things up, and that this time, there weren't enough shoulder touches in the world to retrieve what he'd lost.

Felicity watched him, watched as his momentary happiness faded again, watched as what was becoming his perpetual face-a resigned, depressed look she'd never seen on him before-took over once again. For a moment, she imagined she could see the edges of him, and see that they were fraying and unraveling, and she found herself feeling a little desperate to find a way to stop them from unraveling even more. "Oliver."

"Yeah?" He looked up at her as he closed the boxes, stepping further away to replace them in the drawer.

"Oliver, what's wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

She tilted her head and pursed her lips, a habit she'd had since she was little. "C'mon. You know what I mean."

It was the head tilt that did it. That damn head tilt and little nip at her bottom lip that she'd done when they'd met the first time. When they'd met all the first times. He broke. "I miss you."

She sucked in a breath, obviously not having expected him to be so honest with her. "Wh-what?"

"I miss you." He inhaled sharply and shook his head before meeting her eyes. "I miss you down here, at the computers, 'working your magic'. I miss having you in my ear, walking me through situations. I miss seeing you smile. I miss  _making_  you smile, and I know it's been a while since I even did that, but I still miss it. I love you, Felicity, and I miss you even though you're standing right in front of me." He shrugged, letting his heartbreak and remorse and regret show through his eyes, knowing that if he tried to keep anything from her it would invalidate everything he'd just said.

She stared at him, speechless, watching from beyond herself as he stood there, seemingly waiting for her to do or say something, but she didn't know what. How  _do_  you respond when the man you love, the man you tried to forget you loved, stood in front of you  _again_  and told you,  _again_ , that he loved you and that he missed you? She shook her head, her mouth opening and closing. "I, I don't...Oliver..."

And then she watched as he stiffened. The brief flicker of hope in his eyes that had appeared snuffed out, and he nodded, that damn resignation coming up again before he masked everything. He tried to smile, though it came out as a grimace, and he tapped a hand against the back of her chair before shoving it into his pocket. "Okay then." Nodding once, he avoided her eyes and Felicity watched as he walked past her.

She listened to his footsteps up the stairs, and she felt something like nausea rolling in her stomach, and something like anxiety gripping her heart. And she knew. The ball was in her court. The ball had _always_  been in her court. Ever since he came back from the dead. She'd pushed him. In her mind, she'd blamed him the entire time because she thought he was letting go of them to be the Arrow. And yeah, he had. But then...then somehow, somewhere, the tables had turned. And it had been her turn to take the chance on them. And she hadn't. She'd chosen Ray. She'd chosen Ray, a man still mourning his dead fiancee, when she herself was still mourning the loss of what she could have had with Oliver.

All of a sudden Felicity felt seized by a sudden terror, as though if she let Oliver leave now, she'd never see him again. If she let him go now, they'd never have another chance. Jumping down off the table she ran up the stairs, mixing up the passcode on the door twice before finally typing in the right numbers. She ran, blessing the fact that she'd changed into shorts and sneakers and a tee shirt before coming to Verdant, instead of staying in her professional skirt and heels. "Oli-oof!"

She'd wrenched the door open only to crash into the person she'd been running after. Her momentum forced Oliver to stumble back, his arms having instinctively banded around her waist to catch her. "Felicity, what-"

She cut him off with a kiss, throwing her arms around his neck with abandon. She felt him freeze in shock for a second before he started kissing her back, his arms tightening around her waist and pulling her impossibly closer. When she pulled away for air, he followed her, his breathing heavy. "Felicity, not that I'm complaining, but-"

"Wait, let me go. It's my turn." She looked up into his eyes, tugging him closer when he tried to pull back. He nodded, resting his forehead against hers. "I love you, Oliver Queen. I love you so much it hurts and I'm so so sorry I'm only saying it now. But I wanted to forget you. Because I thought this, us, was toxic and I'd already had a toxic relationship before and I didn't want it to happen again. Especially not with you. But I get it now. You and me, we're the best thing to happen to the other, and we're only toxic when we're apart. So I love you, and I've missed you too, and I never want us to be toxic. Deal?"

"What about Ray?"

"I told him to go. He's in Coast City right now, being the ATOM for people that want him more. I told him Starling only had room for three vigilantes, and that I didn't have room for any." He pulled away then, his brow furrowed in concern. When he opened his mouth to question her, she just rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I never told him I work with the Arrow, Oliver."

"Ah." He nodded, squeezing her a bit. "So then, Felicity, you and me..."

"I'm in if you are."

He looked at her, searching her eyes for the truth in her words, and she let him in. She let him see the love she felt for him and the determination she had to commit to this relationship. And he nodded, a smile growing on his face and lighting it up in a way she hadn't seen for nearly a year now. "Oh, I'm in. I'm  _all_  in."

* * *

_Epilogue, October 2015_

Felicity bit her lip, trying to decide if she wanted a Coke...or a Dr. Pepper. She reached a hand out for the door handle of the drugstore's refrigerator when she felt someone wrap his arms around her waist. She hummed with a smile and leaned back into the warmth behind her, a slow heat unfurling in her stomach as he nosed her hair to the side and pressed a warm kiss to the back of her neck. She tilted her head to the side to give him better access and closed her eyes. There was a low rumbling in his chest as he tightened his arms around her before dropping his chin to rest on her shoulder.

"Oliver," she chuckled. "You're going to get a crick in your neck, bending down so low."

"Is that a challenge?"

She swatted at his arm, though she turned her face to give him a quick peck on the lips to show her good will. "Oliver, please, there are  _people_."

She could practically  _feel_  him rolling his eyes, even as his grip became almost impossibly tighter. "Fine. But later..." He turned to whisper the rest in her ear, grinning when she blushed.

She shook her head, rolling her eyes. "You're incorrigible."

"And yet you love me anyway."

"Somehow..." She squealed when he squeezed her hard in punishment. Bursting into giggles she gasped out, "Okay, okay, uncle, uncle!"

"Say it," he mock-growled in her ear.

She sighed before muttering "love you," already grinning in anticipation of his reaction.

"Felicity..."

"Okay, okay, I LOVE OLIVER QUEEN." She practically shouted the words, deliriously happy when he grinned and thanked her. "You're welcome."

He sighed and shook his head, squeezing her waist one last time before straightening and stepping to her side, keeping her tucked under him with an arm around her shoulders. She wound her own arm around his waist and leaned her head against his chest, loving everything about this moment. They'd come so far since that day in her office, since that day at that drugstore by MIT, honestly, and she was practically giddy with happiness about it. Oliver was so much lighter, and so much happier, and so much more confident in the strength of their relationship, she felt like floating every time she saw him. Not to mention the fact that yeah, if she thought that pre-dating!Oliver was touchy-feely, that was  _nothing_  compared to  _boyfriend_!Oliver, who couldn't seem to keep his hands off her, even if it was just grabbing hold of her hand walking down the street, kissing her sweetly on the cheek at home, or like now, just hugging her to him in public places like the 7-11 a few streets down from her apartment.

Oliver glanced down at Felicity, watching as she got lost in her own thoughts, and took a second to thank whatever deity was listening that she was in his life. He grinned, watching as she bit her lip and biting his own urge to do it for her. Instead, thinking of hurrying up her decision-making process, he reached past her and grabbed a bottle of Coke and a Dr. Pepper, spinning her and directing her towards the register.

"Hey! Oliver," she laughed as she tried to keep up with his longer strides while still glued to his side. "Oliver slow down, I can barely walk."

"I'm just trying to help you out, is there something wrong with that?" He winked at her and set the sodas down in front of the clerk.

"It is when you're  _frog-marching_  me down the aisles at a pace I can barely match even when I'm  _not_  wearing three-inch heels." She shook her head and tried to reach for her wallet to pay for their drinks.

"Ah-ah, I'm paying for these." He passed over a few bills before she could protest. "Let me help you."

She shook her head, her almost-permanent grin still in place. "Why?"

He shrugged his shoulders, grabbing the bag from the kid behind the counter. "Maybe I'm feeling charitable today."

"Or?"

He looked down at her then, feeling his heart swell at the love and happiness in her piercing blue eyes-love and happiness he knew were reflected in his own. "Or maybe it's because I love you too, Felicity Smoak."

She grinned and shook her head, pulling him down for a kiss as they walked out into the street.


	14. Like a Gentleman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue Prompt from Pinterest: "If that wasn't a threat, I don't know what is. And he said it so civilly, too. What a gentleman."
> 
> Episode Tag: Nowhere Specific, Somewhere in S2 but Pre-Slade
> 
> Guest Stars: None
> 
> Enjoy :)

"If that wasn't a threat, I don't know what is," Digg remarks once Lex Luthor's left Oliver's office.

Felicity sighs with regret. "And he said it so civilly, too..."

"Yeah, what a gentleman." Digg shoots her a look that clearly questions her judgment.

She rolls her eyes and strides over to her desk, sidestepping a still-processing Oliver. She pulls up as much preliminary information as she can about the guy, and as expected, it isn't much. "Well,  _apparently_ , this guy is the head of a company not unlike QC, which pretty much explains the manners thing."

"It does?"

"Well sure. Just look at Oliver. He has to be polite to everybody that walks in that door just because he's the CEO. No matter how creepy or bitchy they are."

"Felicity, can you find out a little more than just his official job title?" Oliver cuts off Digg's reply, having started tuning back into the conversation at the sound of his name.

"Depends, can you ask me to help you as nicely as he threatened to kill me?" She bats her eyelashes up at him, the picture of innocence.

Oliver blinks, then leans over her desk, his hands resting on opposite sides of her tablet as he speaks to her in a low voice, his face close to hers with an expression that positively oozes charm. "Felicity, would you please do me the pleasure of finding more substantial dirt on Mr. Luthor?" His blue eyes drill into her own, and she's lost in them until Digg's discreet coughing yanks her out of her stupor.

Felicity shakes her head quickly, and then nods just as quickly, before replying, the words spilling from her mouth more rapidly than she has time to stop them. "Of, of course, anything to, to pleasure- _please_. You." She digs her fingers into her forehead before smoothing her hand over her hair, her mouth opening in an exaggerated wince. "God, I  _hate_  my brain sometimes."

Oliver lets out one of his breathy chuckles, his exhale tickling her face as he pulls back. He shoots her a wink with his thanks, clapping Digg on the shoulder when he passes him at the doorway to his office. The older man nods before turning to Felicity, waiting for her to look at him. When she finally does, he grins at her, breaking into laughter when she throws a paper clip at him.


End file.
